The Shenanigans of Flame and Fullmetal
by KissMeDeadlyT-T
Summary: A collection of Roy/Ed drabbles and oneshots so that I can deal with all of the feels and emotional trauma they give me. Ratings and genres will vary. Set as complete but will be randomly added to. Updated quite frequently 'cause I have no life.
1. Stew

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I've just decided to start a fic where I can dump all of the RoyEd drabbles I think of that won't ever be developed into a legitimate fic. I ship them so hard and have way too many ideas for them so half of them don't ever get completed or just turn into pointless ramblings. If people read them, I hope you guys enjoy the weird parts of my mind.**

**I don't know if the rating will stay T, but I'm going to put the rating and title of every drabble at the beginning of each one, so people will know. :)**

**I don't own FMA.**

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**Title: **Stew

**Rating: **T for language

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"We're having stew."

"We just had stew two nights ago."

"I don't give a damn. Al and Winry were over two nights ago and we had to share with them. We are making stew. This time for us. Mostly me."

"Ed, I'm going to turn into stew if we have stew anymore this week. I don't want to be stew. You'll eat me."

Ed's left eyebrow twitched and he glared at his lover, who sat behind his wooden desk, pouting at Ed over piles and piles of paperwork. "That is the worst argument for not having stew that I have ever heard in my fucking whole life."

"Eeedd," Roy groaned, his head connecting with the desk. "We can have stew this weekend. _Please_ for my fucking sanity can we _not_ have it tonight?"

"You're the one always bitching that I don't drink enough milk. There's milk in stew. It would be a win-win situation."

"It would be a win for Edward and oh my fucking god why the hell are we eating stew for the third time this week and it's only Thursday for me." Roy let out a long sigh. "Honestly, Ed, you get off on stew more than you get off on sex."

Ed's ears turned red. "Don't turn this into something like that, you damned pervert. I do_ not_ get off on stew. I don't have a sexual fetish for stew." His eyes suddenly lit up then, and his forehead creased in thought. "Actually… that sounds interesting…" he murmured thoughtfully. He looked up to see Roy glaring flatly at him. "What?"

"If you even _suggest _bringing stew into the bedroom I swear I will not have sex with you ever again."

Ed grinned widely. "Like you could last that long with just your hand, Mustang. Please."

Roy just glared obsidian death rays at him. "No stew."

"Oh, come _on_."

"Holy fuck. Fine. Make your stupid stew." Roy damn near snapped the pen in his right hand in half. "But I suggest you leave before I punch you in the face."

Ed skipped closer instead and planted a short kiss on his cheek, grinning from ear to ear. "You know what," he said thoughtfully, "maybe we should have sandwiches instead."

Roy stared at him with homicidal intent. "Are you being serious right now?"

"One hundred percent, sir," Ed said in a serious voice that didn't match the shit-eating grin on his face.

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, Roy demanded, "What about stew? You can't just make a big fuss and then—"

"Oh, so you want stew? Jeez, stop sending mixed signals."'

Roy's eyebrow twitched and the only reason he didn't smack Ed upside the head was because it was illegal to hit a subordinate. "Leave."

Ed was very much not leaving, but instead breaching the stressed general's personal space by snickering and pecking him quickly on the mouth. Before Roy could grab ahold of him and possibly make him pay for being an annoying shit by kissing him until he couldn't breathe or something, Ed danced out of his reach, still with that huge grin.

"So, see you at home at seven?"

"Yes. Fine."

"The stew will be on the table~"

"_Leave_."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: So yeah. They'll just be pointless things like this. I know they are drabbles, but I'd still love it if people dropped reviews… Mhm. Well, it's up to you, if you got this far. Thanks for reading. c: **


	2. Oral Fixation

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Fuck yeah reviews. c: Thanksss**

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**Title: Oral Fixation**

**Rating: T+/M (I don't knooooow I mean there's nothing explicit just like sexual situations I guess) for suggestiveness and language and tobacco usage and other RoyEd usual stuff.**

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Roy, for the umpteenth time this week, found himself choking on a cloud of bitter gray smoke. Coughing hard to expel it from his lungs, he shot a nasty glare down at the blond nestled between his legs. He and Ed were sitting in front of the fireplace, cuddling after a long day of work, and it was really the most relaxed Roy had been in a long while— and now, there was acrid smoke hanging around them, and he just wanted to bash his head into the nearest wall.

"Are you smoking in my house again?" he asked, letting every ounce of irritation this made him feel creep into his voice.

"Our house," Ed corrected mildly, bringing the cigarette back up to his lips. He sucked on it for a moment then pulled away, blowing out another cloud of smoke and a big sigh. "And yes, I am."

Roy made a face and shoved Ed not gently away from him. Ed just grumbled and curled up beside him instead, but Roy wasn't in a very cuddly mood anymore. "Well, stop," he said testily. "It's gross."

"Suck my dick."

"Gladly. If you fucking get rid of your cancer stick."

Ed just glared at him and pointed an accusatory finger. "You're supposed to love me no matter what kind of shitty life decisions I make or bad habits I have." The cigarette's glow flared again as Ed stuck it between his lips again, still with that grumpy scowl. Roy couldn't deny that Ed really did look excellent with things in his mouth like this, but did it have to be a _cigarette?_

He shook his head, crawling over and grabbing a metal pike to poke at the hearth of the fireplace to rekindle the flame that was slowly starting to die out. "Of course I love you no matter what," he said, not ditching the agitated tone. "That's why I want you to stop. It's gross, and you're going to die young if you don't stop. Do you know what's in those things?"

Ed rolled his gold eyes. "I've already got at least ten years cut off my life from all the shit I've done in the past nineteen years. This probably won't make much of a difference." Another long drag, another cloud of smoke. Roy's eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

"Why did you start, anyway?" he muttered, looking away. "It's a horrible habit."

"So's slacking off at work, but you don't seem to be nearly as concerned about that," Ed sniped. Roy just glared at him. Sighing, Ed shrugged. "I don't know. I was biting my nails or something waiting for you to get your ass to your office one day and Havoc offered me a smoke. He said it's a more practical way to keep my mouth busy and that he didn't really blame me 'cause he has an oral fixation too." Ed hummed. "I don't really know what that is, but whatever. I haven't been biting my nails as often."

He said this all very lightly, as if it wasn't a big deal, but Roy was majorly ticked off. He was going to kill Havoc.

"He could have offered you a goddamn candy if he was so convinced you've got some sort of oral fixation, not a fucking cancer stick. I'm going to singe his eyebrows off. More practical, my _ass_."

"Mmm, your ass is _fine_," Ed grinned and reached around to pinch his lover's butt cheek, waggling his eyebrows. Roy swatted his hand away irritably.

"Don't change the subject."

"I'm not allowed to admire your ass?" Ed pouted.

"Not while I'm pissed at you."

"You're always pissed at me."

"Yeah, well, then don't look at my ass, you little shit."

Ed's eyebrow twitched. "Watch it. That was the L-word."

"I care so much."

"Psh." Ed took another lazy drag of his cigarette, blowing a perfect ring of smoke in Roy's exasperated face with another shit eating grin.

Letting out a long, frustrated sigh, Roy attempted to breathe out all of the annoyances he was feeling. It didn't work very well. Actually, it didn't work at all. It reeked of tobacco and it made him want to strangle Ed, to be honest. He stood up without saying a word. Ed watched him suspiciously, eyes narrowing.

"What are you doing?" he asked. When Roy didn't answer, he got to his knees and climbed onto the couch as Roy wandered towards the kitchen, demanding, "You're just gonna walk away? Really? It's just a fucking _smoke_, I'll go outside if it's that big of a deal, sheesh. It's not like I do it often…" He trailed off, realizing Roy was walking back now, still with that unreadable cool expression. There was something in his hand. It took Ed a moment to figure out what it was, but when he did, it was too late. Roy threw it into the fireplace and immediately, the flames started devouring it.

"Are you fucking being serious right now?" Ed screeched, scrambling over and watching in horror as his last three packs of smokes burned to ashes, filling the living room with a pungent bitter smell. Before he knew it, the one between his lips was stolen too, and tossed in next to the burnt package before golden eyes could even blink.

Ed gaped. "That… y-you… Do you have any fucking idea how much those cost me?" he yelled. "What the hell is your problem, you jerk?"

"My problem," Roy growled, shoving Ed onto the couch and pinning his wrists to the back cushion, "is that smoking is a nasty habit. You're not allowed to do it anymore." When Ed just looked more ticked off and opened his mouth to snarl out a protest, Roy briskly went on, "Havoc got you hooked on it trying to get something besides your fingers to satisfy your oral fixation, am I right?"

Ed was still glaring. "Yes. You asshole. And you just fucking burnt the last of it, I swear—"

Roy covered his mouth with his free hand. "Well, we're going to try something else now."

Now, Ed looked uncertain, his eyes narrowed suspiciously. Still miffed, but clearly interested, he pulled Roy's hand away from his mouth. "And what's that?"

"I'm going to use the same strategy Havoc did," Roy said lightly. "You like sucking on things."

"Yeah." Ed was glaring again.

"Good." Roy smirked slowly. "Then I think this will be enjoyable for both of us." His eyebrows raised suggestively, his lips curving in a way that made Ed feel really prickly and warm in his skin. He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding the obsidian eyes smirking at him. "Can you guess?"

Ed just looked uncomfortable and flustered, but it seemed to dawn on him suddenly. A delicate pink dusted over his cheeks. "You're a fucking perve," he muttered.

"So? What do you say?" Roy asked, grinning now. "It's a healthier alternative, and you know I'll reward you…"

Bright red, Ed ripped his wrists out of Roy's grip and shoved him back, crawling on top of him with a scowl that didn't match his dilated eyes. "Fine," he said gruffly, fingers fumbling with the button of Roy's black jeans. "But you better fucking hold up your end of the bargain."

"Of course," Roy purred, running his fingers down the length of Ed's loose hair.

"And if it doesn't work, you owe me a pack of smokes," Ed muttered.

"Sounds fair to me."

"You sound so fucking smug like you know it's gonna work."

"Because," Roy replied without batting an eyelash, "I'm sure this alternative will be much more suited to your tastes. It doesn't cost anything and it's available whenever you'd like. _And_," there was a hint of pink tongue flicking across thin, smirking lips, and Ed turned red up to the tips of his ears, "a cigarette isn't going to suck you back, now is it?"

Ed just glared at him. "Two packs if you keep this up."

"If you say so."

"Three now."

"Mmmhmm."

"You suck."

"No," Roy said with a saccharine smile, "you do. Now get busy."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I just thought I'd mention that I've heard that people with oral fixation are more likely to start smoking, which is why Ed was easily influenced. :)**


	3. Winry the Blackmailing Hellion

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I wonder why all of my oneshot/drabble ideas come to me while I'm shampooing.**

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**Title: Blackmail**

**Rating: T+ or M I don't know I suck at rating things. There is no actual lemon.**

**Warning: Winry being a pervert and a sneaky little fucker, Ed dying of awkwardness, sexual themes, blackmail, good stuff.**

**Note: Cenz is supposed to be relative to the Japanese yen, right? Fifty thousand Yen is 512.49 Canadian dollars. So that's what fifty thousand Cenz is supposed to be in this.**

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Ed was staring blankly at a wrench, trying to understand why and how Winry was so excited to be in this shop when all he wanted to do was cringe and run away from all of the automail parts he had come to resent during his time with automail limbs. His left leg was still metal, and as his eyes passed over some weird thing that looked exceptionally painful (but probably was just a part to connect things or something, Ed didn't know or care), he couldn't help but grimace and turn away. Winry had insisted on coming in here. Somehow, they'd gotten separated, and now he was wandering the shop aimlessly, trying to find her amidst the countless aisles of engineering junk that he really had absolutely no clue about.

Excited squealing from the next aisle over let him know he was heading in the right direction. They'd been apart for almost a half-hour; he was kind of afraid to see what she'd found that was making her squeal so much, but walked to the next aisle anyway.

He spotted her dancing around in front of a shelf, earning herself weird looks from other customers and a long sigh from Ed. He drifted towards her. "We've been in here forever, Winry… Are you almost done? And damn it, you're annoying and people are staring. Stop screaming." His long list of bitchiness was drowned out by yet another squeal of joy as Winry realized he was there.

"Edward!" she cried, running over and tugging him forcefully to where she had been standing and ogling whatever was on the shelf. "Look at this!" she went on excitedly, waving her arms and pointing frantically at what just looked like a bunch of different colored wires and tools to Ed. When he just gave her a 'seriously?' look, Winry let out a scandalized scoff and said, "_Ed_, do you have any idea what this _is_?"

"Not really…"

His wary tone didn't seem to sway her at all and she just squealed again, jumping up and down in place. "This is the newest blah blah blah and I've wanted it _forever_ and it was in the catalogue in Risembool but it was too expensive and blah blah blah…!" This wasn't what she actually said, of course, but that's what it sounded like to Ed. It was like she was speaking that weird Xing language Ling sometimes slipped into. He really didn't know what she was talking about. Didn't really care, either. His eyebrow twitched.

"—so please, please buy it for me Ed, _pleeeease_!" she finished, throwing her arms around his neck and looking up at him with big, blue puppy-dog eyes and a quivering pouty bottom lip. Ed was about to sigh and say okay; after all, it was a belated birthday present, and she really wanted it. Then he spotted the price tag.

"Winry— did you _see_ how expensive this is?" he demanded, jabbing his finger at the price tag. "_Fifty thousand Cenz_. I _don't_ have that kind of money."

"Are you kidding me? You're _loaded_, or is it a false memory that you used to freaking throw your cash around all willy-nilly when you were a state alchemist?"

"That was _four years_ ago, and I gave most of my savings to Al so that he could travel to Xing," Ed reminded her exasperatedly. "Working as a non-state alchemist colonel doesn't pay as well as you'd like to think, Winry."

"You could still afford it," she pouted. "You're just being cheap."

Ed rolled gold eyes. "I, unlike you, have to pay bills. I can't just stay at my grandma's house and make automail. I have half a household to pay for. Sheesh."

"Only half!"

"Yeah! So? It's still expensive! Fuckin' Mustang takes like half hour long showers! That is a _lot_ of money for the water bill. Holy shit."

"Just borrow some of his money, then," she suggested sweetly. "If it's his fault, it should be equivalent exchange if you take some money, right? Plus, he gets paid more than you as brigadier general _and_ state alchemist. So it's okay. It's fine. Come _ooooooon_, Ed—"

"Are you kidding?" Ed demanded. "If I did that without asking, he'd incinerate me. It's not my money."

"But you guys are like maaarriiiieed."

"No we are not! And it would still be a dick move!"

"Ed, _pleeeeeease_—"

"Winry," Ed interrupted exasperatedly. "Maybe another day, okay?" Okay, so maybe he _was_ being a bit stingy… it wouldn't be too big a deal if fifty thousand Cenz disappeared from his or Roy's bank account—but fifty thousand Cenz was a bullshit price, whether he could afford it or not!

Winry's eyes glinted maliciously and she pulled away. "I thought this would happen," she muttered, shaking her head. She began shuffling through her handbag. "You're so stubborn, it's awful… I guess I'll just have to convince you to buy it for me."

Ed watched, confused, as she searched her bag. After a moment, she let out a soft 'aha!' and pulled out a small paper. Ed's eyes narrowed in on it. "What's that?"

She offered a deceiving saccharine smile and flipped it over so that he could see that it was a photo. It took a moment for what it was _of_ to register, but once it did, Ed turned bright red up to the roots of his hair and started sputtering furiously. He stumbled forward and tried to grab it from her hand, a look of absolute panic coming over him as she grinned and danced out of his reach.

"Where the hell did you get that?" Ed screeched, remembering at the last minute that they were in a store. Customers stared reprovingly at him, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He swallowed and lowered his voice, glaring at Winry with the nastiest eyes he possible could while simultaneously trying not to start crying in awkward humiliation. "Where did you get that?" he repeated in a lower voice. Then he flushed darker and slowly added, "_How_ did you get that? Is that taken _from the closet_?" Near the end, he was almost screeching again.

Winry smiled. "When you and Roy stayed at my house a couple weeks ago. Remember?" He stared blankly at her, bright red. "When you had to get your leg repaired?" she prompted.

Ed's face drained completely of any colour as he fully remembered everything that had gone on during that little trip. "Y-you… you spied… When…"

"Excuse me, I wasn't _spying_."

"What the hell else do you call _hiding in the fucking closet of the guest room and taking pictures¸_ you _creep_?" Ed's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, but Winry only grinned wider.

"Research?"

"_Research_?" Ed repeated, sputtering. "On _what_? How to fucking have gay butt sex? _Fuck¸ _Winry—"

"On how to twist one's fingers like so," she made a vague motion with her right hand, "and make Edward Elric shut up and turn into a hot mess." When he just gaped at her, embarrassed to the point of tears, she burst into laughter. "Oh, I'm kidding, Ed. I was just curious. I didn't mean to stay so long, but…" she drifted off, and in his head, Ed finished her sentence. _But I, Winry Rockbell, am a perverted little hellion that really needs to put this fucking photo away before Ed takes the super sharp looking tool next to me and starts stabbing himself in the throat._

Her eyes drifted down towards the photo, and Ed couldn't help but follow her gaze— he wanted the floor to eat him up and now. Gate, he looked like such a _bitch_ in the picture— eyes at half-mast, cheeks flushed and mouth open in a harsh pant, fingers digging and clawing into the muscular back of Roy Mustang. The older man was bridged over Ed, his hair dishevelled and face buried into the crook of Ed's arched neck. Ed felt that familiar heat curl in his abdomen and quickly snapped his eyes away from the photo _that he was going to fucking kill Winry for_ and up to her laughing blue eyes. She smirked when she saw the absolute horror in his eyes.

"If you want to reminisce, go ahead." She reached her hand into her bag. "I have some more if you need to look at them." Her tone was innocent enough, but Ed knew her sweet appearance was disguising a perverted little demon.

"No," Ed snapped, face still completely red. "I don't want to fucking see any more pictures." His shoulders hiked up to his ears and he looked away, jaw set in a flustered scowl. She could tell how embarrassed he was and giggled, earning herself another poisonous glare. "Now I'm _really_ not buying you this automail crap, you sick bitch."

"That's too bad," Winry sighed, as if she was actually disappointed. "I guess I'll just have to show these to Mustang's staff. Especially Hawkeye. Yeah, I'd bet she'd just love them!" Ed stared in horror, but she went on flippantly, "Maybe Al, too. He likes to know what his brother is up to. Oh, and Ling— I hear he's in Central for some business with Xing, isn't he?" She sighed and shrugged in a 'what can you do' way, brushing past Ed, who was still staring with wide eyes. She raised an eyebrow and glanced back at him. He didn't miss the sneaky glint in her blue eyes. "Aren't we leaving?"

"W-wait," Ed stuttered, swallowing. His mind was reeling with ways that he could get payback on her for this. Gritting his teeth, he muttered, "Maybe… you know what, it's not that expensive."

Winry grinned widely. Ed could almost taste the evil genius aura radiating off of her. "Are you sure?" she asked in a concerned voice. "It would be a lot cheaper to mail out these photos than it would to buy me that."

Ed glowered at her. "Damn it, Winry, grab your fucking automail shit and we are _leaving_."

She grinned excitedly and hugged him hard again. "Thanks! I knew you'd come around!" she said happily as though she hadn't just threatened to show half of Amestris super embarrassing pornographic pictures of him having what he remembered had been really awesome sex with his _superior._

As they were walking out of the store (and away from fifty thousand Cenz, Ed thought mournfully), Ed cleared his throat and casually asked, "So uh… those pictures."

"What about 'em?" Winry asked, holding her package happily to her body.

"Can I have them?" What he really meant was _Can I have them so that I can bring them home and burn them and perform an exorcism with the ashes and summon a demon or something to come and eat you for making me do this you goddamned automail __**freak**__. _

"Nah, I think I'll keep them in case I ever need to blackmail you again."

Ed was scandalized. "Winry!" he wailed. "You can't do that! This is an invasion of privacy— it's _spying_, and that is _illegal_, I can report you! Hell, I can _arrest you _. It. Is. Illegal. Illeeegaaaaaaal."

"So is sleeping with your commanding officer, whether you're of age now of not," Winry replied smoothly, without batting an eyelash. Ed just gaped. She gave another deceivingly sweet smile. "Tell on me, I tell on you!"

"You're evil," Ed said in a hollow voice.

"Maybe a bit, but you already knew that."

"Don't you dare show those pictures to anyone."

"Don't worry. I'm the only one who ever has and ever will see them."

"…That doesn't really make me feel better. You're such a pervert…"

"You guys were the ones having sex in the room _next to mine_."

"So?" Ed sputtered. "You were the one spying! Plus, he started it!"

"It didn't look to me like you had a problem," she said smugly, flashing him the picture again. The flush that had never really disappeared returned, and Ed looked away.

"I fucking hate you."

"I love you too, Edward."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I just love Winry so much and I think something like this could actually happen if RoyEd was canon and stuffs.**

**This drabble turned out to be more of a oneshot than a drabble… oopsies.**


	4. Femininity

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I have this headcanon that Roy is actually a huge softie who loves to eat sweets and cuddle and be cute as fuck when he's not at work, and that he's very affectionate and sweet to whoever he is in a relationship with. Since I ship him with Ed, I like to think that Ed always gets all frazzled because at home, Roy is a sweetie and a goofball and at work, he is that cool and smug commanding officer that we all know and love. AFJHFJBBDSHGB IT MAKES ME PUKE RAINBOWS**

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**Title: Femininity**

**Rating: T for language.**

**In Ed's POV and sorry for any spelling mistakes. :c**

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You know what fucking gets me going? When people call me effeminate. Holy fuck. I don't know _how_ many times I've seen or heard people saying that I'm girlish whenever they think of mine and Mustang's fucked up relationship or whatever you want to call it. _Excuse me_? How the _fuck_ am I even remotely girly? Okay, I have long hair that seems to always look awesome no matter what the fuck situation I am in, but that doesn't mean shit. I wash it with soap and _I don't even condition_. Sheesh. 'Oh, Ed, but you're so slim and tiny!' Yeah well _shut the fuck up it's not my fault genetics suck and Al got all the fucking height._ I am _not_ girly. Period.

If anyone is girly between Roy and I, it's him. I don't need anyone trying to defend him by saying he's so cool-headed and manly at work— that's at work. You try living with him twenty-four/seven. Your perspective of him will change drastically within a day. I guarantee it.

Gate, how do I even _begin_? Let's start with his routine— he'll wake up and then he'll go shower. This sounds normal, right? That's where you're wrong. It takes me like five minutes tops to shower, and that's with my long hair and the fact that I have to be careful to dry my automail leg so that it doesn't rust. He takes _a half hour._ I don't even fucking know what he does in there! How does it take him so freakin' long to shower? And oh my gate, his shampoo— I swear to fucking god the only way it could get girlier would be if it had a girly flowery name that matches its girly flowery scent. Granted, he can pull it off without coming off as a complete fairy, but still. Femininity for Roy: 1.

After he finally gets his ass out of the shower and comes downstairs, I'm already awake and eating whatever is available in the kitchen. Usually, it's some form of pie or cake or brownies or something chocolaty— which he always goes out of his way to buy. It's like fuck, even his _food intake_ reeks of womanish sparkly sweetness. He eats more sweets and pastries that Winry. You think you're gonna see Roy Mustang being a man and eating a T-bone steak or a hamburger? Fuck no. That bitch is gonna be eating a motherfucking cupcake and probably having an emotional breakdown about how it's gonna go straight to his ass.

If he has work that day, he'll go back upstairs and shave and get dressed in his uniform and give me a kiss then leave. If we both have work, it's the same except he usually doesn't kiss me and instead just tells me I best be getting my ass to his office on his break time at noon. Oh, and you'll never guess what he has an entire drawer of his work desk dedicated to; yep, you guessed it. Chocolate. The man is a chocoholic.

When he gets home from work, the first thing he does is go upstairs and change into sweats and a T-shirt. Which is really cute, actually. Like the cutest thing I've ever seen. Anyway, sometimes I'll walk upstairs and he's changing and he honestly will be like "Ed, does this shirt make me look fat?" and then proceed to freak out and change a million times when really, he looked as hot in the first shirt as he did in every other one.

If he happens to have the day off, we usually just do whatever around the house. Talk, read, sleep, make out, you know. Whatever. There's one thing that he always does, though— he's always in the _kitchen_. I mean, damn; that's like the most stereotypically womanish thing a person can do. Not that I think women belong in the kitchen, because really, they don't— but goddamn does he ever fit into that stereotype. He's always baking cookies or brownies or random casseroles, and while domestic Roy is probably the most fucking adorable and perfect thing out there, it really makes me wonder sometimes if he is actually a woman trapped inside of an extremely attractive Xingese male body.

Sometimes, when he thinks I'm not at home, he'll grab one of the sappy romance novels he's got littering our bookshelf (if your girly-radar isn't going off my now, there's a problem) and curl up under a blanket, maybe with a fucking _tub of ice cream_ or cup of hot chocolate or something. And then he'll get all teary-eyed and start blubbering over whatever shit is going on in the book— I can tell he tries so hard not to cry, but he always loses because the estrogen levels in his body are like 'hell no Roy you don't get to keep your man card' and he ends up bawling. That's when I walk in just to smite him and make his sobbing turn into embarrassed flushing as he tries to pretend he was not being a huge girl. Gate, I fucking love him so much. His lack of masculinity makes my day sometimes. It really does.

If you're not convinced that he's the girl in this relationship yet, then… well, you should get yourself checked because I think you're missing the part of your brain that grasps reality.

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T loves this headcanon so much that she actually died of cuteness and now Edward and Roy will say good-bye for her.**

**Ed: So… bye**

**Roy: If you leave a review I'll give you brownies that I made**

**Ed: Oh my gate leave a review we have too many brownies fucking just take them *throws brownies at readers***


	5. Persuasion

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I don't know what's up with me but I've been shitting out these oneshots like nothing, holy shieeeet. This is like, the third one this week. Guess I write oneshots better when I'm in a depression. I'm going to have like 50 stories by the end of this month if this keeps up…**

**I don't own FMA.**

**Warning: Smut, yaoi, Alphonse being an awkward duck, all that good stuff… The sex part isn't really long or anything (it's like, one paragraph), but it's still M for a damn good reason. **

**xxXXxxXXxx**

It was a nice day, Alphonse thought, sipping idly at his iced tea and staring out the window of his brother's apartment to the busy outdoor life of Central city. He was staying here while he was back in Amestris from his studies in Xing, and he really had missed the different life here. The scents wafting up from the streets below were those of car exhaust, freshly baked bread, cool air and the underlying pungent scent of the sewer opening that was a few blocks down. It was peacefully different from Xing, where the air smelled of spices and always had an energetic, kinematic buzz in it. Even the way the sun shone seemed different, but it was familiar and warm on his skin and he loved it.

The cheerful city life below him suddenly took on a glowering tone, and it only took Al a moment to spot the furious whirlwind of pissed-off irritation that was his older brother. Ed stormed down the streets, the scowl on his face visible even from the third floor. Al sighed and stepped away from the window, taking his few last precious moments of peace and quiet to muster up patience to deal with whatever Ed was angry about now. Al had the patience of a saint, but when Ed was in one of his moods, he could very well try the patience of a rock.

The door slammed open, and then Ed stormed into the apartment, curses and swears flying from his mouth in a way that could make a sailor shed a tear of pride. Sighing again, Al wondered how it was that Ed was twenty-three but still acted like the temperamental brat he'd been at fifteen. Some things never changed, he supposed. He sipped at his iced tea again, leaning on the wall by the doorway and watching with a concerned sort of interest as Ed kicked his boots off, making them go flying and spraying dirt everywhere. This only made Ed curse even more. "Fuck! Fucking dirt, what the fuck do you think this is, a fucking game? _Fuck_ I am so goddamn _done_ with this bullshit, fucking hell I'm _gonna_ castrate Mustang with a fucking rusty knife and fucking serve him his own dick for dinner, _fuck_!" By the end of that, he was panting, glaring hard at the specks of dirt on the wall like whatever had happened was entirely because of them.

Al couldn't help but smile a bit. Ed was something else, that was for sure. "Brother?" he said quietly, ice cubes tinkling softly in his glass as he idly swirled it.

Ed jolted as if he'd been zapped and spun to face Al, face reddening. "Oh, hi," he said weakly. "I didn't know you were here."

Rolling his eyes, Al wandered back into the living room. "Where else would I be?" he said loudly over the sound of Ed muttering dark things in the entryway. "It's not like anyone I know is around or off."

"I thought you had that thing." Ed emerged from the hall, throwing his black coat onto the back of the couch before flopping down tiredly onto it. "That thing you were going to take Winry to?" he prompted when Al looked at him blankly.

"Oh," Al suddenly remembered, cheeks heating up faintly. "Right, that… yeah, we were supposed to, but Winry's train got delayed. She's still in Risembool." He smiled, a bit forced. "Another time, I suppose. It doesn't start for another hour, but I still don't have anyone to go with."

"Ah, that fuckin' sucks…" Ed muttered, shutting his eyes lightly. He still looked miffed, so Al decided to take a chance and ask.

"What did the general do to piss you off this time?" he asked, letting a small amount of amusement creep into his voice.

"General fucktard," Ed snarled, "decided that it would be appropriate to fucking rip the report that took me _hours_ to complete for that stupid fuckin' mission in Xenotime I just got back from, all because," he dropped his voice to a mocking baritone, "'It was inappropriately written for a colonel of your status, Fullmetal, and half of what it read was complete and utter bullshit.'" Ed growled and kicked his legs out blindly. "What the hell would he fucking know? He wasn't on the mission, he had no clue what fucking went on but _nooo_," he rolled his angry gold eyes, "apparently hours of slavery over trying to get every single goddamned detail of the mission means nothing to that fucking bastard unless it lives up to what he wanted to hear." Al was about to answer, but Ed let out a huge sigh and went on, "It isn't my fucking fault the guy had goddamned arrays on his hands and was about to blow my head off! I just did what I had to do to survive— which you'd think he'd _appreciate_, seeing as how we're supposed to be in a fucking _relationship_," he said vehemently, crossing his arms and finishing with a growl that kind of made Al worry for general Mustang's life.

"Well," he said hesitantly, not wanting to accidentally pull the figurative pin of Ed's grenade, "maybe he was just worried, Ed. You know, with you putting your life at risk when you can't use alchemy to defend yourself anymore… He probably didn't mean it in a bad way."

Ed's rage stuttered for a moment, a soft look coming over his face. Then it came back and his eyes flashed angrily, but Al could tell that Ed hadn't actually thought about that and that it actually pleased him. "Yeah, well I don't give a shit," Ed grumbled. "That didn't give him the right to fucking tear up my report, Al. I _swear_ I am going to kick his ass all the way to Drachma the next time I see him." He slid down in his seat until his butt was almost entirely off the couch. "It's not like I didn't _try_ to be civilized. It looks good on paper, but when the guy's about to blow my head off, I'm not gonna try to negotiate. I'm not a diplomat, I'm a fucking soldier."

Al let out a long sigh, getting to his feet. He headed over to the kitchen and set his empty glass in the sink, turning to face Ed with the most patience he could muster up. "I still have the tickets to the show," he said, raising his eyebrows. "You could come with me to take your mind off of things and cool down, and talk to him tomorrow," he suggested. "Otherwise I'm going to have to go find someone to sell the tickets to."

Ed grimaced. "I'd love to, trust me. Unfortunately, I have to go back in to work at seven and rewrite that damned report. Even sitting through a boring freaking concert— no offence," he added when Al stared at him resentfully, "even that would be a better alternative, but…" He rolled his eyes again. "Mustang's dead set on punishing me."

Glancing at the clock, Al nodded. "Okay then, no big deal. Do you know if Havoc is off tonight?"

"What time is it? Five… I think he gets off at five-thirty. Why?"

"Well, I know Hawkeye has the week off, and I thought maybe they could go." Al smiled, a bit devilishly. Ed gave him a slow grin.

"You tryin' to set them up?"

"Maybe," Al said lightly. "I mean, it's pretty obvious Havoc has a huge crush on her, and Hawkeye seems to have gotten over the fact that Mustang is in love with you. I think they could work. Don't you?"

Ed, who had started to flush slightly when Al off-handedly mentioned his and Roy's relationship, cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, trying to pretend he wasn't blushing. "What time is it at?"

"It's in an hour, actually."

"Great!" Ed got to his feet and grabbed his jacket. "Let's go now. I'll see if I can convince Mustang to let me off the hook this time." His grin was just a bit perverse, and Al cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'd appreciate if you didn't make sexual implications, brother… I know what you guys do behind closed doors, but that doesn't mean I wanna think about it."

"What?" Ed snapped, reddening. "That wasn't a sexual implication, you moron."

"Then why are you blushing?"

"I'm not— damn it, Al!"

Al just rolled his eyes. "Come on."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

As soon as they got to Mustang and his staff's office, Ed made a beeline for the door on the opposite side, glaring at it the whole time. It slammed shut behind him. Al responded to the questioning looks from Havoc, Breda, Falman and Fuery with a shrug. "Apparently Ed's got a bone to pick with the general."

"When doesn't he?" Havoc muttered, his cigarette hanging limply off his lip. "Seriously… god, I'm so glad I'm out of here in ten minutes. I don't want to be here when they blow up." He grimaced when the sound of shouting started from behind the closed doors. "I'm leaving early. Don't tell on me, guys." He turned on his heel and walked off, giving a short wave.

"Oh!" Al exclaimed, suddenly remembering the reason he'd tagged along. He fished the tickets out of his pocket and caught up to Havoc, holding them out. "Do you want these?" he asked.

Havoc took them curiously, flipping them over with mild interest in his smoke-darkened hands. "What are they for?"

"There's a concert tonight down on Main," Al explained. "I was supposed to go with Winry, but her train got delayed and she won't be here until tomorrow night." He shrugged, smiling a bit. "I didn't want them to go to waste, so I figured you could ask Hawkeye."

Breda let out a low whistle and grinned widely as a light flush appeared on Havoc's cheeks. "Sweet, Al. You made him blush."

Al chuckled a bit as Havoc shot Breda a glare. Straightening, Havoc puffed his smoke a bit, nodding. "Alright, thanks. How much you want for 'em?"

"You don't have to pay me back," Al protested, shaking his head. "Just take them, okay?"

"Oh, come on, Al… I can't just take them."

"It's fine. I don't want your money." Al smiled. "Just take Hawkeye and have a good time, alright?"

Grinning, Havoc shook his head. "You're a stubborn thing," he said, rubbing the top of Al's short hair affectionately. "But at least you're nice about it. Ed could take some lessons from you."

"I've tried to teach him manners, but they never seem to stick."

"I can tell," Falman put in dryly as the yelling from Mustang's office became louder. "They're gonna kill each other in there."

"Yep," Havoc sighed. "On that note, I'm out of here. Try not to get yourselves killed."

After he was gone, Breda let out a long sigh. "I think this calls for a break," he said, standing up. "I'm going to grab a snack. Anyone want to come?"

At once, Falman and Fuery stood, the youngest's cheeks flushing slightly when his stomach grumbled loudly. "Sorry," he mumbled. "I'm starving."

"You coming, Al?" Falman asked.

Al shook his head, falling onto one of the couches next to the desks. "Nah, I'll just wait here. It's probably a good idea for someone to stay in case they start getting violent," he said with a roll of his eyes, jabbing his thumb towards the door from which Ed's vehement swearing could be heard. The three soldiers left with the promise that they'd be back quickly, and Al was left alone in the room. Trying to ignore the arguing, he got up and walked around, randomly looking at books on the shelves and staring out the window at the darkening sky. It was only quarter after five, and the sun was setting already, red and orange and pink staining the sky so vibrantly it almost looked like a painting.

He moved on to the next bookshelf and was just picking up a book that had to do with the military history of state alchemists when he noticed something. It was quiet, unnervingly so; he could almost hear the city's evening sounds from outside the fortress, and swore he could pick up faint sounds from other officers in rooms beside this one. The arguments had stopped, and as relieved as he was, it bothered him, for some reason… Ed and Mustang's arguments never just _ended_.

Hesitantly, he stepped closer to the door, straining his ears. He could hear much, but the doors were soundproof (or were supposed to be; they didn't seem to do much for when they were screaming at each other), so he set his jaw and cracked open the door. He was about to call out and ask if Ed was ready to go soon, but the words died on his lips as his light brown eyes stared hugely at what was happening on the other side of the room.

He didn't know why the first thing he noticed was Ed's hands slapped over his own mouth, but he supposed that was the reason he hadn't been able to hear anything. Now that the door was open and nothing was stopping the sounds, Al could hear tiny, muffled moans and desperate whimpers that Ed was very obviously trying to swallow down, but if the wicked smirk on the general's face meant anything, he wasn't going to be able to keep doing that for long. Al was completely frozen, watching the scene before him play out in horror and embarrassment. This… this was… he _knew_ they did things like this, he didn't care, but damn it, he never wanted to _see_ it!

Then Mustang was between his brother's mismatched legs and doing a movement with his hips that Al strongly believed should be kept firmly locked away in the secret land of gay erotica, Ed's back arching off the desk and a throaty groan flying from his panting mouth. His hands scrambled for something to hold on to, and Mustang's forearms were the victims, little red crescent moons appearing where Ed's nails dug in. "Faster," Ed moaned, his entire body practically rolling under Mustang's, eyes shut in bliss. His teeth dug into his own arm, muffling a loud series of curses and pleas when Mustang sped up, still wearing that smug grin that Al was never going to be able to see in the same way ever. "Fuckin'—ah— _harder_, Roy, hahh— oh _fuck_, there!" Ed's head tilted back on the desk, eyes squeezed shut and eyebrows pushed together in ecstasy.

Al finally snapped out of it. He turned beet red up to the roots of his hair and slammed the door shut, not even caring if it interrupted them. He heard Ed let out another desperate curse and then Mustang's dark chuckle and had to count to ten in his head so that he didn't faint. _Apparently it didn't bother them at all._

He quickly walked away from the doors, trying his hardest to forget what he'd seen— but oh, damn it, it was going to be awkward as hell when Ed got home. He nearly ran smack into Falman and yelped, jumping back and nearly falling onto his butt. Damn, he was all jittery; he just walked in on his brother _taking it up the ass_ and_ begging_, for fuck's sake— he guessed he couldn't really blame himself. He also guessed that there was no way he was going to be able to look at Ed when Mustang was in the same room ever again.

"In a hurry?" Fuery teased. His grin fell when he saw the wide-eyed look on Al's face. "Alphonse?"

"Oh," Al squeaked, reddening. 'I, um…"

"Did you go in?" Breda asked grimly.

Al nodded, cheeks burning. He had to shut his eyes to try and block out the memory, but it didn't work, because it just started playing out on the back of his eyelids. "Ah… yeah," he said awkwardly, blinking them open. He tried for a laugh, but it came out awkward and nervous and only made him want to crawl under a rock even more. "They, uh… they'll probably be a while, huh?" He sounded uncomfortable even to his own ears. Oh, gate this was the most inconvenient situation in the _world_.

Falman nodded, thoughtfully rubbing at his chin. "Sometimes it'll be hours," he mused, quirking a disturbed eyebrow. "We just pretend nothing is happening and go about our business."

Al nearly let out an undignified squeak at the 'hours' part and nodded quickly, feeling awkward beyond belief. "I'm gonna just… go back to the apartment. When Ed's, um— done, just let him know, okay?"

They all nodded and Al booked it out of there, wishing desperately that he could stop by the corner store on his way back and pick up a container of eye bleach.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

When Ed returned to the apartment around ten that night, Al was reading on the couch, trying to escape the memory thatwas _still_ replaying over and over in his head. Gate, it was disturbing to think that his socially inept and snarky older brother had a sex life, and apparently a damn good one at that. Ed walked into the living room and gingerly sat on the chair opposite Al, his clothes just a bit rumpled and hair a bit messier than usual. There was a hint of a bruise peeping out from his collar, but Al didn't say anything. He wouldn't have noticed it if he hadn't seen what he did.

"You were gone for a while," he said casually, putting his book down and waiting to see what kind of fib Ed would come up with to cover his tracks.

"What?" Ed asked blankly, like he'd just been torn out of a daze. He turned bright red, and it pained Al to think of what Ed had probably been daydreaming about. "Oh, yeah. I was… you know, just rewriting my report and stuff."

Al snorted. "Stuff indeed," he murmured, lifting his book again.

"What?"

"Nothing." It became silent, and it was just awkward. Ed shifted uncomfortably, clearly picking up on the vibe Al was giving off.

"What?" he repeated, sounding a bit irritated.

"So, did the general approve of your report this time around?" Al asked lightly. "It sure took you a while. It must have been a _damn good_ rewrite." He made sure to put emphasis on those two words specifically, and watched with a wry sort of amusement as Ed's face turned bright red.

"Y-you—" He sputtered, eyes wide in horror. "Oh fuck, please tell me you didn't see—"

Al stared down at his lap. "Trust me," he said quietly. "I wish I hadn't."

"Oh fuck." Ed covered his face with his hands. "Oh fuck, fuck, _fuck_, I _told _him it was a bad idea!" He groaned, face a ripe shade of cherry that actually kind of impressed Al. "I'm going to kill myself… fucking hell… no, I'll kill _him_, then myself… _Fuck_…"

"Well," Al cleared his throat. "On the bright side, you got what you wanted, right?"

Ed peeked at him through his fingers, eyes wet with humiliation. "What?" he whispered, voice cracking.

"Mustang let you off the hook… I'm assuming?"

Ed nearly choked on the hysteric giggle that clawed up his throat. "Are you_ kidding_? He's still adamant on punishing me, even though I don't have to redo the report anymore…"

"I don't think I want to know what is classified as punishment, if what I saw already is classified as 'convincing Mustang to let me off the hook'," Al said dryly.

"_Al_!" Ed wailed. "It's probably like, cleaning the bathrooms or something! Fuck!"

"Well, you can't blame me…"

"You're a fucking pervert!" Ed screeched, jumping to his feet. Immediately, he crumpled, cursing under his breath and landing facefirst on the couch. "_Fuck_!" he yelled as if that summed everything that had happened this evening up.

And really, Al thought, picking up his novel and slinking down low in his seat, it did.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: huehuehuehuehuehuehuehueheu**


	6. Irritating Edward

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Domestic RoyEd is the best thing in the whole world besides my headcanon that Roy is a girly-girl. *hearts* Thanks for the reviews, people! I never actually thought my little herp derp drabble-thingies would get **_**reviews**_** and *gasp***_**love.**_** Oh my.**

**Ooooon a sidenote, I was thinking of starting a Facebook page for my writings, so that I can actually associate (hahaha me associating haha) with the people who I notice read me often (yes, I recognize you guys and I get all happy when you review and like roll around and cry and have feels man) and stuff. I was going to do Tumblr but murrr I suck at using it. But yeah, either Facebook or Tumblr if I can stop being stupid and understand it.**

**Should I…? If enough people say yes, like ten or more, I think I will… maybe…**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Irritating Edward**

**Rating: T for language and irritated Edwards**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Ed, don't slouch." Roy casually flipped the page of his book, glancing at Ed from over the top of it.

The blond glared back at him from the oven. He flipped the pancake in the skillet, letting it flop onto the wet side with a bit more violence than necessary. Roy watched with vague irritation as some of the batter flung out onto the gray counter.

"And why the hell not?" Ed asked, tossing his braid back as if to emphasize how much he didn't give a shit. "I'll stand how I want, colonel shit-head."

Roy rolled dark gray eyes. "It's bad posture. You'll end up with a hunch-back. You don't want that, do you?"

"I do what I want. Fuck nature. I won't get a hunch-back because I don't want a hunch-back."

Roy thought then that he should probably just leave his eyes in a rolled up state whenever Ed was around. "Damn it, Ed, just stand up straight, will you?"

"No. I ain't got a stick in my ass, unlike _someone_."

Ignoring the jab, Roy put his book down. "Edward Elric, fix your posture right now or so help me I will go over there and take the rest of your pancake batter and pour it down the drain."

Ed snapped his fingers in a sassy Z formation. "Ah, hell no! If you pour that batter down the drain, I'll pour your _sex life_ down the drain."

"That made no sense."

"I won't fuck you! Is that easier for someone of your lower intelligence to understand?"

"Lower intelligence? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you over the fact that _I _shouldn't really be the one the word 'lower' describes." Roy smirked.

Ed's eyes narrowed to gold slits. "Was that a short comment?"

"I believe it was."

"That's it, you don't get any fucking pancakes. Fuck you."

"You used _my_ ingredients. I'm entitled to at least two."

"No, fuck you."

"I don't think someone so small should be able to eat a dozen pancakes, Ed. I get two."

"Can you not?"

"Not?"

"Be an ass?"

"Only if you stop being short."

Ed threw his hands up in frustration. "You suck!" he shouted. "Do you always have to be so— ah, shit!" He quickly grabbed the spatula and tossed the pancake off the skillet, grimacing at the charred blackness of it. "Look what you made me do, you bastard! Fine, you can have_ this_ fucking pancake… thing!"

"Gross, no. I don't want your burnt shit."

"Oh my fucking— Roy, I'm gonna smack you."

"Okay, just not the face, alright?"

Ed's eyebrow twitched. Roy just smirked, enjoying the show— it was way too easy to rile Edward up. Exhaling slowly, Ed turned back to the stove, pouring another pancake into the skillet. Roy let the silence hang for a moment, and then he said, "Ed?"

"_What_?" Ed snapped.

"Don't slouch."

Mouth open in disbelief, Ed turned to gape at him. "Are you really doing this? You're really gonna be an asshole this early in the morning? Fuck, I _told_ you—"

"You're already short enough."

And that was it; Ed screeched like a banshee, chucking the spatula at the fleeing form of his laughing boyfriend. "_Who are you calling so small single-celled organisms can't see him with a fucking thousand times amplified microscope, you piece of shit_?" Ed chased after him, every second that Roy busted a gut laughing making his anger amplify by ten. "I'm gonna stab you to death with this fucking spatula, you damn—"

Roy locked himself in the bathroom, grinning widely and leaning on the door. Ed pounded on the opposite side, his hellish aura practically bubbling under the door and making Roy laugh even more. "Ed?" he said for the nth time when the blond paused to take a breather.

"What the_ hell_ do you have to say_ now?_" Ed's voice was like nail's on a chalkboard.

"You're going to burn your pancake if you keep this up."

"_I'm gonna burn your dick off if you keep this up_."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: What am I even doing with my life**

**SO yeah! Please review and tell me what you think about that Facebook/ Tumblr thingie. **


	7. IIIIT'S personal survey time!

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Before anyone complains, I know that things like this aren't allowed on Fanfiction. If it gets reported? Sucks. If I have to take it down? Meh. If you leave a review rudely telling me I'm not allowed to post this kind of stuff? I know. Why am I posting it anyway? Because FUCK DA POLICE, I DO WHAT I WANT.**

**OH AND! I MADE A FACEBOOK PAGE! I NEED PEOPLE TO LIKE IT SO I'M GONNA SPAM Y'ALL WITH IT EVERY CHAPTER 'CAUSE I SUCK AT BEING SOCIAL AND HAVE NO OTHER IDEAS ON HOW TO GAIN LIKES ON A PAGE THAT I CAN'T TELL ANYONE IRL ABOUT.**

**It won't let me post it here. Bullshit. Anyway, it's on my profile if you're interested.**

**(help me please I don't know what the fuck I'm doing)**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

_Instructions: Pretend you are an interviewer asking a random couple questions about their lives together! The way things work is pretty self-explanatory, so sit back and let your imagination run wild._

**xxXXxxXXxx**

_**Name of your lover?**_

Ed: I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU ANYTHING!

Roy: *ahem*

Ed: *shifty eyes* Okay, fine, Roy Mustang. Fuck, why am I here again?

Roy: *grins* Edward Elric. And you're here because you love me.

Ed: That is bullshit. I think I'm here because you promised to make me brownies.

Roy: Damn straight.

_**Age of your lover?**_

E: Fucking ancient.

R: I AM THIRTY, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

E: Pfffft.

R: *glares* Sixteen going on two.

E: That really makes you a pedophile, shit-head.

_**Favorite thing to do with your lover?**_

E: *turns red and hides behind bangs* Lots... of things...

R: Well, we all know where his mind is… I like to sit by the fire and cuddle. Maybe drink some hot chocolate.

E: …Why are you so… cute?

R: Okay I'll hit you.

_**Hateful thing to do with your lover?**_

E: Uh… we get into fights. A lot. And I mean full-on _I am going to break your jaw_ fights. Those... suck.

R: Agreed.

_**What do you do on your free time with your lover?**_

E: It really depends.

R: Yeah, we don't usually do anything important though.

E: Usually bicker or something.

R: Or have sex.

E: Yeah. Hey, wait, don't say that to random people, you idiot!

R: (Hehehehe)

_**What is your lover's favorite food? **_

R: What ISN'T?

E: MILK.

R: Oh right.

E: And his is chocolate. Jeez, I only realized now how feminine you are, Mustang.

R: IT'S NOT FEMININE IT'S CALLED BEING A CHOCOHOLIC SHUT UP.

_**What is your lover's favourite thing to do?**_

R: Annoy the fuck out of me.

E: *ignores that* I'd say that his favorite thing to do… He has a lot. Be a pervert, play with fire, make fun of me… Oh, and he really likes to cook even though a lot of the time he burns things to ashes and we end up ordering pizza or something. It's cute though.

R: *sulky look*

_**Did you announce your relationship in public?**_

E: N-no way!

R: Even if Ed wasn't such a wimp about it— *avoids pillow being thrown at head* - We can't. I mean, some people like lieutenant Hawkeye know, but we can't have everyone knowing I'm fucking my underage subordinate.

E: THE LEGAL AGE OF CONSENT IS SIXTEEN, IT'S NOT ILLEGAL.

R: It's still illegal to fuck my subordinate...

_**What is the sensitive part of your lover's body?**_

R: Again, what isn't? I can touch his shoulder and he starts moaning like a bitch in heat.

E: *blushes furiously* No I don't! Shut up!

R: *sighs* Automail scars.

E: *still flushed* Fucker has this thing for the bottom of his spine being touched.

_**Have you ever been on a date?**_

E: Not really… kinda.

R: Nothing really extravagant, since, again, it's illegal. Sometimes we go for ice cream or something though but act as though it's a business thing.

E: Because ice cream is real professional, right?

_**Where did you go for your first date with your lover, if you had one? If not, what was the first thing you did as an official couple?**_

E: Well, we went camping for a night, just the two of us, but ended up having to pack up and drive home because it started pouring and the tent wouldn't stay up and there were mosquitos and it was freezing.

R: Yeah, so we went home and Ed decided to shower because he was cold—

E: And he decided that sneaking up behind me while I was shampooing was a great idea.

R: And then we had sex.

E: Yup.

R: I guess we're not really great with romance...

_**Who asked out the other person first?**_

R: Surprisingly… Ed.

E: I didn't really _ask_… We were arguing about something I messed up on—

R: Again.

E: -and I ended up getting so angry that I just punched him in the face and kissed him. My brain doesn't like me very much.

_**Describe your lover as an animal?**_

E: A FUCKING CAT, OH MY GATE HE'S SUCH AN ATTENTION WHORE YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW IT. This is literally how almost every day goes: Pay attention to me Ed you know you can't resist me because I'm so fucking cute and you just want to hug me to bits all the time, but just kidding I am actually a pyromaniac perverted fucking demon in adorable form and I am going to fuck up everything you have ever known and make your feels explode into an array of rainbows and sparkles but it doesn't even matter because I'm so fucking perfect. Fuck you I'm Roy Mustang.

R: I see… Um, okay, well, I don't know if I can top that. Wait. Heh. A shrimp.

E: Do you want to die?

_**Describe your lover in one word.**_

E: Bastard.

R: *smirks* Loud. If you know what I mean.

E: *throws pillow again*

_**Describe your lover as a flower.**_

E: I literally know nothing about flowers. Maybe he can be a rose. Those are nice. Right?

R: I don't know anything about flowers either…

E: Let's just agree that we're both roses.

R: Roses are girly.

E: Your point, Mister I eat chocolate and love to cuddle and cry over cheesy soap operas when I think Ed's not watching?

R: I do not!

_**In your next life, will your love continue?**_

E: Um… *flush* I guess...

R: Yeah.

_**Will you ever cheat on your lover?**_

E: No! AND I'D FUCKING RIP HIS DICK OFF IF HE TRIED.

R: I wouldn't.

_**What would you do if your lover cheated on you?**_

E: VIOLENCE OF THE MOST PAINFUL VARIETY.

R: Be depressed. And eat chocolate.

E: Be honest with me are you a girl Roy

R: Of course not. D:

_**Who is Seme and Uke?**_

R: I am se—

E: OH, NU-UH, DON'T TRY THAT SHIT! WE TAKE TURNS AND YOU KNOW IT!

R: (Ed is still in denial that I can manage to dominate him everytime.)

_**What kind of Seme or Uke are you?**_

E: What… what an odd question…

R: Well he's like a blushing virgin either way.

E: Shut up! Anyways I'd say he's really… Ugh fine I'll admit it, I almost never top but either way he is really, really dominant. I mean… it's, uh… Well it's really hot. *resembles a tomato*

_**Would you like to be top or bottom sometimes?**_

R: It would be interesting to see if Ed could actually do it.

E: Of course I can do it, idiot! I'll prove it!

R: Now?

E: NO! THERE IS A CRAZY FANPERSON INTERVIEWING US, THAT'S A BAD IDEA.

R: I rather thought it was a good one…

_**Did you have your first time with your current lover?**_

E: *blushes madly* Yeah…

R: No…

_**Who did you have it with?**_

R: :I I'd rather not say.

E: *glares* Was it Hawkeye?

R: No! We're FRIENDS. I've told you before who it was, Ed, and I'm not telling you again.

E: Right, sorry…

_**Did you regret it?**_

E: No.

R: No…

_**So where do you have xxx?**_

E: Behind closed doo—

R: Everywhere.

E: Okay, yeah. Everywhere.

_**Would you like to have it kinky?**_

E: *sputters* Wh-what kind of question is this!

R: Already do. *smirks*

E: *dies*

_**How kinky?**_

E: This is irreleva—

R: Very. Kinky.

E: Why are you answering!

R: 'Cause it's an interview.

_**Who is the masochist and the sadist?**_

E: Well I—

R: Ed is definitely the masochist, because he can't stand the thought of hurting others. Even during sex. But he doesn't seem to mind if I hurt _him_…

_**When you are feeling bad do you have xxx?**_

E: W-well… I mean, sometimes…

R: If Ed is feeling down, I do my best to make him feel better.

E: Yeah, and… uh, me too. Except for him.

_**How many times do you have xxx in a week?**_

E: WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE QUESTIONS?

R: It's not really easy to keep track of…

_**Would you like to have a threesome of a foursome one day?**_

E: *has given up on being embarrassed* Not really.

R: Nah.

_**Would you like to have xxx in front of people?**_

E: ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY? NO WAY IN HELL!

R: It's kind of personal, so not particularly. I would enjoy making Ed blush in public, though, it would be so nice to see him all embarrassed because of something I said somewhere that there are a lot of people to see it.

E: Don't even think about it!

_**Are you happy when you have xxx?**_

E: Why wouldn't we be? THESE QUESTIONS ARE STUPID I CALL BULLSHIT.

R: Of course. And shut up Ed.

E: NO OMG

R: Do you see what I have to put up with?

_**On missions do you usually have xxx?**_

R: Well I don't usually go on missions with Ed, but we probably wouldn't due to the fact that Alphonse is almost always around and he doesn't sleep.

E: *terrified look* Don't make me think of my brother and us having sex in the same scenario, I'm already scarred from that as it is…

_**In the middle of xxx do you fight?**_

R: Well...

E: Hahaha, is that even a question?

_**When you kiss would you kiss when the other has food in their mouth?**_

R: *smirks* Chocolate.

E: It really depends on what it is. I agree with that, though… Chocolate and kissing sounds really… uh… *flushes*

_**Have you ever been caught having xxx?**_

E: FUUUUUUUUCKK I DON'T EVEN WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE OH MY GATE I AM SO DONE HERE

R: Yes, we have.

E: HOW CAN YOU BE SO CALM ABOUT MY FUCKING LITTLE BROTHER WALKING IN ON ME RIDING YOUR COCK YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

R: *snickers* I still can't get over the look on your face when you opened your eyes and saw him standing there…

E: AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN STOP FUCKING ME! I STILL CAN'T LOOK AT AL PROPERLY WHEN YOU'RE IN THE SAME ROOM, YOU JERK!

R: Sucks to suck, Fullmetal.

E: I WASN'T SUCKING I WAS- nevermind. I'm going to kill myself.

R: *snickers*

_**Have you ever tried different positions in xxx?**_

E: *is now dead*

R: All the time.

_**Do you ever get tired of xxx with your lover?**_

E: N-no…

R: *grins widely* No way. Would you get tired of seeing him moan and scream and beg for you? Didn't think so.

E: I HATE YOU SO MUCH!

_**How many months have you been together?**_

E: Uh…

R: …I… don't know…

E: Me neither…

R: ;_; We suck.

_**Would you like to have children with your lover?**_

E: CHILDREN ARE DEMONS SO NO NOT EVER NO

R: Not really.

E: Plus we're both men.

R: There's this thing called adoption?

E: There's this thing called shut the fuck up Mustang we're never have a kid ever.

_**Would you get married with your lover?**_

E: *blushes madly*

R: If it was legal… yes.

E: *blushes even more*

_**Where would you get married?**_

E: Oohh! Xing! I've always wanted to go and Ling told me there's lots of good food! Can we, please? Can we Roooooooooooyyyyyyyy—

R: Holy fuck, okay! Is food honestly the only reason you want to go there?

E: Yep! Aren't you part Xingese, too?

R: Well, yeah, but—

E: PERFECT! TO XING WE GO!

R: ;_; Okay.

_**Where would you have your honeymoon?**_

E: At a cottage in the woods?

R: Why?

E: So we could be alone…

R: Ah… I see. *pervy grin* Well now we have to get married.

E: It's illegal.

R: It's not as if we haven't broken the law before.

_**Do you give pet names to your lover?**_

E: Bastard.

R: Shrimp.

_**Will you kiss in front of anybody?**_

E:*blushes again* I-it really depends who…

R: I don't care.

_**If you had the choice now, would you?**_

E: Wait what

R: Sure.

_**What about now?**_

E: I… this… no! What the hell!

R: Still yes.

_**Would you like to show some love in front of me:**_

E: I, uh, I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE TO MEET AL, SO I SHOULD GET GOING! *runs away as fast as humanly possible*

R: Don't worry. I'll get him for that later. *pervy grin*

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: As you can see, I clearly have too much free time on my hands. xD Anyway, I hope you guys enjoyed even though this format isn't allowed. If it really grinds on anyone's gears, I'll take it down, but seriously, it's there for people to enjoy so don't report it just 'cause.**

**Well I mean… if it's even enjoyable in the first place. ;_;**

**So uh here. Have one of the cookies I baked today. *hands reader a chocolate chip cookie* **


	8. Educating Havoc in the ways of Lube

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: This drabble actually came from this weird conversation I had with my friend… I won't go into details but basically, she wanted be to do a thing where Roy and Ed teach one of Mustang's men the ways of gay sex. This isn't really that, but it's something close enough to it. Also, I chose Havoc because I really enjoy Havoc. He's a hottie. Even though he's so straight it burns my homosexually inclined eyes. Huehuehue *dorky laughter* Oh my god I'm sorry I'm really in a weird mood atm**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Sex Ed (hah...hahah…play on words…)**

**Rating: T+ for just sexualness all around. Oh and excessive swearing and discussing about lube.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Ed was very positive he was about to punch the smug, _I-totally-won-this-argument-and-you-suck_ smirk right off his superior's face. Their argument about his last mission had progressed from bad to worse, and now not even the fact that they were kind of sort of in an illegal superior-subordinate relationship made him think twice about wanting to curl his metal hand into a fist and repeatedly strike Roy Mustang in the face.

Unfortunately (or, if you were to ask Roy, very _fortunately_), the door to the colonel's office slammed open. Roy jolted and immediately switched his catty smirk to a professional poker face, but Ed didn't care so much and turned to the intruder with a nasty glare for daring to intrude on his beating Roy time. It turned out to be Havoc, his ever-present cigarette hanging off his lip and what seemed to be a sheepish grin on his face.

"Hey, boss… Am I interrupting something?" He glanced between the two alchemists, raising an eyebrow. "A lover's spat perhaps?"

"Yes," Ed snarled, but Roy just shot him a Look.

"No," he said coolly, resting his chin on his hand. "What is it?"

Havoc dusted a light pink and shut the door behind him. "I actually… I have to ask you two something." He tittered there awkwardly for a moment. "It's not urgent… I mean, I'd like to know by tonight… but… I can come back later…"

"Both of us?" Ed questioned suspiciously.

"Yeah, uh… yeah. It's… um."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "Well, what is it? I don't have all day."

"You see, I… I have this date tonight, and… I…" Havoc gulped, glancing behind him to make sure the door was still firmly shut. He walked awkwardly forward, his hand scratching at the back of his neck nervously. "I need… to know… a thing."

Ed snorted. "In case you didn't know, we have the most dysfunctional relationship in Amestris. We're not really the best people to ask for advice on dates, Havoc."

"It's not the date part," Havoc muttered. "It's the… after part."

"Get her wet, put a condom on and fuck her," Roy said boredly. Ed and Havoc stared at him, Ed bright red and embarrassed. Havoc just looked aghast. "What?" Roy asked a bit defensively. "Those are the basics, I'm sure you're no stranger to foreplay and how sex works. I have no clue why you'd come to us for answers, because in case you haven't noticed, we are both men and even though I've had sex with girls before, I'm probably not the best person to ask."

Havoc shut his eyes, turning a dark red that challenged even Ed's speechless shade of crimson. "It's… not… It's a guy," he blurted. Then he muttered, "Not a girl."

Roy gave him a blank look like he couldn't quite register what he'd just heard in his mind. Ed's jaw dropped, gold eyes full of disbelief. "Say what? You're even straighter than I used to think Mustang was. Like hello? Aren't you the guy obsessed with boobs?" He grasped at the air in front of his chest, eyes widening expectantly. "Guys don't have boobs. You _cannot_ tell me you're gay. I don't want to have to rip a hole in the space time continuum."

Havoc glared at him, face reddening further. "I'm not gay," he said, letting out a frustrated sigh. "I'm _bisexual_, and yeah, okay, I favour women usually. This guy's hot though, and he asked me out, so I wasn't gonna say no."

Roy was still gaping. "Holy fuck, Havoc."

"_What_?"

"You? _You_? You like dick? Holy fuck, what is the world coming to?"

Havoc shot him a glare too. "Yeah, well, no one expected you to be a homo either, boss. How do you think we felt when we walked in on Ed sucking you off? That was a huge fucking shock to us, but we got over it, so how about you both stop _staring_ like that and let me ask what I need to ask seriously. Then we can forget about this and move on with our lives."

Ed, who had started to look rather awkward in the middle of that, flopped down on one of the couches in front of Roy's desk. "Well, what do you want to ask? Please hurry. I need to go home and bash my head against the wall a couple times to remove this meeting from my mind."

Havoc brought a hand up to rub down his face, grimacing warily. "Trust me. I can't wait to forget it either. This is so awkward."

"Awkward? Woah, don't over-exaggerate there, Havoc," Ed muttered, slinking further down the couch until his face was nearly buried in his collar.

There was an awkward silence for a moment, in which Havoc tittered there nervously, biting his lip. Roy heaved a long sigh, straightening in his chair. "Well?"

"It's just… uh… what… is the… um, you know, if we were to… have, um…"

"Sex?" Roy said flippantly.

"Uh— yeah, that, erm… well… What… what would you say is the best household thing to use as lube?" Havoc asked weakly, flinching like he thought the words would manifest into little demons and attack him. They may as well have gone and smacked Ed upside the head, because he let out an involuntary, half-hysteric little giggle, face reddening at an alarming rate as Roy furrowed his eyebrows.

"L-lube," Ed squeaked, shrinking in on himself. He giggled again, another strangled, awkward blurb that just made everything ten times odder. "Heh… heh… uhh…" He looked like he might pass out. "That— lube."

"Yep," Havoc said, grimacing again. "I thought you two would know… I mean, you're always going at it and I figured you can't _always_ have a bottle of lube in your pocket… so…"

Roy curtly cleared his throat, interrupting Havoc with a flustered look that he was doing a terrible job hiding. Havoc grinned sheepishly and murmured, "Sorry. Just… what's best?"

Ed and Roy met eyes for a moment. Something unspoken seemed to go through them, and then Ed shifted uncomfortably, straightening his back and trying to look collected but mostly looking like he was going to have an emotional breakdown. "Well… I m-mean… we usually… whatever's available…"

"Don't use spit unless you have nothing else," Roy suggested, still somewhat awkward but much more collected than anyone else present. "It doesn't last very long and it's really troublesome to keep re-lubricating the area. Trust me, Ed bitches about it a lot afterwards." When Ed just sputtered and stuttered protests and Havoc looked like he might die of embarrassment, Roy smirked, shrugging. "Well, unscented hand cream, vegetable oil... you _could_ use conditioner if you're willing to get wet and fuck in the shower, but I don't really recommend it." At this, Ed curled up into a ball and groaned, face nearly at the point where it could burn a hole into the couch. "Or you could be a man and go to the damn drug store, Havoc, seriously. It's not expensive. But," he raised his eyebrows, "if you can't grow a pair and do that, just use water or oil based around the house."

"Oh, uh, okay—"

"And keep in mind it will be going inside one of you. Trust me," he smiled, but it looked forced and pained, "some things just aren't meant to go inside of you." Ed groaned something that sounded suspiciously like _"I'm _sorry_, damn it_" and Roy just shook his head and finished, "Really, your safest bet is to go to the store and just buy a bottle. After all, that's what it's made for."

Havoc shifted awkwardly, cigarette dangling and forgotten on his lower lip. He was staring at the colonel like he wasn't sure whether to say thank-you or feel bad for Ed, who was muttering dark things into the couch currently, or just plain be worried for Roy's sanity for being able to say all of that without stuttering or breaking face. "Fantastic," he finally squeaked out. "So uh… spit's a no-no?"

Roy shrugged again, a smirk playing on his lips. "I wouldn't suggest it for your first time, unless you have nothing else. Or," his eyes slid to Ed, and his smirk widened, "unless you like it a bit rougher than most."

Ed made a strange choking sound. "I'm going to kill myself once this is done," he sobbed. "No, better yet, I'll kill you first, bastard! _Then_ I'll kill myself."

Havoc was nodding, a strangled grin on his face as he tried desperately not to break down into tears of pure awkward weirdness. He backed up quickly towards the door. "Alright, er, thanks. I'm, ah… just… I'm gonna go now. Bye." With that, he turned and booked it out of there, the door slamming shut behind him.

As soon as he was gone, Roy let out a strangled laugh and let his head fall onto his desk. "What the fuck just happened?" he whispered, trying really hard not to burst into the same hysterical giggles Ed had had earlier. Ed just stared at him, horrified.

"You just fucking gave Havoc a lesson in _gay sex, _you fucking _moron_." He made a sound of exasperation. "And you told him I liked it rough! What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

Roy could only do a weird whisper-laugh-thing and hold back tears. "I don't know."

"Oh my god, you could have just fucking said _go to the store and buy lube and watch a gay porno Havoc_ and it all would have been over! Do you fucking have verbal diarrhea?"

"I don't know," Roy whimpered. "Shut up, please. I need to wallow in awkward misery now."

"I'm never going to be able to look at Havoc in the eye again. Ever."

"_I know. Shut the fuck up._"

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Well, I hope that was accurate enough… I really hope my parents never search through my internet history because all they're going to see is "What household items to use as lube" and "what to never use as lube" and then I'll have some serious fucking awkward explaining to do. Man I should've used Incognito. I'm just… gonna go clear my history now… **

***awkwardly slinks away into the sunset***


	9. Peanut Butter Sexy Time

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Gosh I just got a review from my last chapter asking me why Ed was sorry before I slink away into the sunset awkwardly. I guess my inner pervert couldn't resist but write this. I don't want to sleep yet. D:**

**Oh, this drabble is EdRoy, not RoyEd, so uh… if you don't like it, just don't read it. c: Sorry for any typing errors— I wrote this in the dark. I'm **_**supposed**_** to be asleep.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: What to not use as lube if you want to not die (Just kidding, I don't really have a title for this one… eh…)**

**Rating: M because this one actually has sex in it omg. It's not terribly graphic, but… it's there. Don't like? Don't read. SIIIIMPLEEEE.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Lube," Ed panted harshly into his ear, a groan sounding low in his throat. Roy let out a particularly harsh cry as the cold, blunt end of Ed's metal fingers brushed the bundle of nerves deep inside of him, and Ed quickly pulled away, still breathing heavily. "Lube, lube…"

"Just fucking use spit," Roy groaned, an arm over his eyes. He was left feeling empty and hot with Ed's fingers gone, and he really couldn't find it in himself to give a fuck about lube. "Ed," he moaned, purposely drawling it out and making it desperate and hot just because he knew Ed was already struggling to hold onto his self-control. Gulping, Ed looked away, his eyes wired shut and lips pressed together.

"No," he finally ground out, firmly holding his lover's hips down. Roy groaned again, letting his ire at Edward for stalling show in every single one of his actions. "_No_," Ed repeated, shaking his head and shakily getting to his feet. "You're way too fucking tight for me to do this without some sort of lube that _isn't _saliva."

"You were using spit with your fingers, come on," Roy pleaded, reaching for the blond, who just backed out of his reach. Glowering, Roy fell back onto the bed. "Fine. Find something fast, or I'm changing my mind and _you_ will be the one getting fucked. God knows _you're_ not tight."

Ed flushed a dark crimson. "Shut up," he muttered. "You're a pervert."

"And you're an asshole, leaving me hanging like this." Roy pointed at the door. "Go find lube, if you're going to be stubborn about it. _Go_," he repeated a bit more viciously when Ed stood there gaping at him. The blond shook himself.

"Ah! Right!" He sped out of the room. Roy could hear him shuffling through the cupboards in the kitchen and sighed, bringing his arm back up to cover his eyes again. Doing his best to ignore the arousal thrumming through his veins and the very hard and very uncomfortable throbbing organ between his legs, he waited as patiently as he could for Ed to return. He really wished they'd thought about bringing some form of lube _before_ they got this far. Of course, he wouldn't mind it a bit rough— he wouldn't care if Ed just hastily used spit like he had with his fingers, but Ed seemed adamant on _not_ hurting him. Which, Roy thought, was an odd thought in itself. Then again, it wasn't as if they'd planned for this. It _had_ started off with just lying there, Ed reading and Roy resting next to him with his eyes shut, but then Ed had leaned over and kissed him softly on the mouth, and well… they always had had a hard time keeping their hands off each other.

Then Ed was back, all but flying back onto the bed and nestling himself back between Roy's legs, a small container in his hands. Now, Roy trusted Ed and this wasn't the first time they'd done it like this— but the container was making him feel a little bit nervous. He tried not to let it show and asked in the most casual voice he could muster up, "What is that?"

"Dunno," Ed responded with a shrug. He opened the jar and scooped out a handful, slathering it onto himself with a slight shiver. This successfully distracted Roy, and he didn't care so much about what it was. Watching Ed touch himself was way more important than caring about whatever the hell that stuff was. His already hard cock twitched, and he let out yet another groan, rolling his hips up into Ed's. The blond gasped, nearly falling facefirst onto Roy's chest. He managed to catch himself on his hands at the last minute, panting softly as he ground his hips back down into the delightful friction that was slowly making them both lose their minds.

"Come on, Ed," Roy moaned lewdly on purpose again, a shiver running through him when Ed whimpered. "_Fuck me_…"

Swallowing, Ed nodded quickly and pushed Roy's thighs apart, slowly pushing in. It was tight— Roy always was— so much that Ed felt tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Underneath him, Roy's teeth were clenched, a low moaning sound coming from between them. "Fuck," Ed gasped, fireworks exploding before his eyes. "Loosen up, ah—"

"Like hell," Roy responded, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. His fingers clutched at the blankets so hard that he'd be worried about tearing them if he had the mental capacity to think at the moment. "What the f-fuck— what did you _use_?"

Finally in balls-deep, Ed collapsed onto his chest, panting. "I don't know," he breathed, squeezing his eyes shut. "But you're gonna rip my dick off if you don't _relax_."

"It's hard to relax when it feels like you just fucking filled me with sandpaper, Ed," Roy shrilled, fumbling to grab the jar. He focused blurry eyes on the label and promptly chucked it violently to the floor. "Oh my fucking_ god. Ed_."

"What?" Ed asked nervously, still trying to get used to the insane tightness.

"_This is fucking extra thick peanut butter._"

Ed let out a short laugh of disbelief. Well, it explained why Roy was so exceptionally tense… peanut butter was bad enough, but extra thick? That… had to hurt. "Are you serious?" Ed moved slightly then, nearly collapsing at the friction. "Okay," he squeaked. "Bad idea."

"_You fucking lubed yourself up with peanut butter_!" Roy screeched. "There is _extra thick_ _peanut butter _in my fucking _ass_, Ed!"

"It's not exactly sunshine and rainbows for me, either!" Ed snapped, face burning. "I'm sorry, okay? Fuck!"

"You're dead once this is done," Roy warned him darkly. "Now move. Slowly!" he gasped when Ed quickly slid out then back in. "Fuck— _Ed_—"

"I'm sorry," Ed gasped again, a small, hysterical giggle bubbling up his throat. He started laughing uncontrollably as Roy just stared at him in horror. "Sorry, sorry, just— okay, lemme try…" He gingerly pulled out, easing back in as gently as he could. The consistency made Ed start giggling again, but one glare from Roy and he shut up with another hasty apology. Eventually, they managed to get past the discomfort— well, sort of; Roy couldn't imagine that anyone could ever really get past the discomfort of having extra thick peanut butter up their ass— and the friction, as painfully sticky as it was, sort of started to feel oddly… good. Hell, Roy didn't know. All he knew was that he was never going to be able to look at peanut butter the same ever again.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

A while later, they lay panting on the dirtied sheets. Ed's arms had collapsed some time ago and he was curled up on Roy's body, his face red.

"That… was interesting," he murmured after some time, feeling like a complete piece of crap.

"Understatement of the century…"

Ed looked guilty, hiding his burning face into Roy's neck. "I'm so fucking sorry," he whispered miserably. "I was just— I was rushing, I didn't want you to get bored and I just—"

"Edward, I'll never get bored of you and you know it." Roy shifted, pulling Ed closer to his spent body. "Just… keep that in mind next time, alright? Take your time finding something. Really." He glared pointedly at the jar on the floor. "I'm serious."

"You're never going to let me live this down, are you?" Ed muttered into his neck.

"Not likely."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Okay, so I'm going to be honest— I don't actually know how well peanut butter would work as lube. Hell, I'm not planning on finding out, either. But uh… the extra thick PB I have in my cupboard is like impossible to swallow, so I can't imagine it'd be pleasant… up **_**there**_**. It's not exactly what one would call 'slippery'.**

**On a sidenote, I'm definitely not going to ever be able to look at peanut butter the same either. Hehe. Well, anyway, now you know why Ed said he was sorry last chapter.**

**Now, I can finally slink away into the sunset in peace. *does so with a dorky thumbs-up***


	10. Switch

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Idk man I just really wanted to write but I had no ideas so I just opened a new document and started typing. This was born. It's… really pointless. Reaaalllyyyy pointless. Oh well.**

**Also sorry if there are spelling errors and stuff I haven't slept in like over 48 hours and my spelling/grammar/punctuation/literary decorum all goes to hell when I'm tired... I tried to fix them all but I'm not perfect and quite frankly I'm lazy as fuck**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Switch**

**Rating: K+ - T for language I think**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Today sucked.

Of course, every work day generally did, but today seemed particularly suckish in comparison to the mediocre levels of suckiness it was every other day.

Roy was sitting at his desk being really bored and completely not doing his paperwork at all when suddenly the doors to his office slammed open. It was almost an hourly occurrence, so he didn't even jump, instead just raising his eyes to see who dared disrupt his slack time.

It was Alphonse, and the dirty-blond looked like he was about to have an emotional breakdown and cry Roy a river in the middle of his office in Central command. Roy raised an eyebrow. Al didn't usually come see him unless something serious was happening.

"Hello, Alphonse," he said, boredly setting his cheek in the palm of his hand. "Can I help you?"

Al ran up to his desk and slammed his hands down onto it. "Help me."

A bit taken aback, Roy furrowed his brow. "With?"

Then Ed came flying in, gold eyes wide and panicked. "Ed— oh, crap, General, I'm sorry, is Ed being a brat again—"

Wait a second. Roy was so confused he could feel wrinkles appearing and that really completely sucked so he had to clear this up. Why was Ed… talking to Al… like Al was Ed? "Um… huh?" he asked intelligently.

"Fuckin' _help_," Alphonse screeched, basically clambering over the paperwork and grabbing Mustang by the collar. Roy was very alarmed. Al was way too close for comfort. Behind him, Ed tittered, looking panicked.

"Ed, get off of him! You're in my body!"

"I don't fucking care!" Al—Ed?— cried.

"I don't want my body on the general!" Ed—Al…?— wailed. "No offense, sir!"

"Uh. None taken… I think…" Roy said slowly. He finally put his hands on Al/Ed's shoulders and gently pushed him off. "Can someone tell me what's going on here?"

Al…Ed… ugh, whichever fucking one was that was currently standing right in front of him let out a particularly vile curse. "I'm stuck in Al's body!"

"And I'm stuck in Ed's." Ed— apparently Al— looked like he might start crying. "He's been going around screaming and freaking out in _my body_ and everyone thinks it's _me_," he groaned. "This is so embarrassing."

"Embarrassing?" Ed screeched. Roy could see now what was going on— Al's usually placid and kind face was currently a feral snarl and Ed's usual no-fucks-given face looked concerned and panicked. "_Embarrassing,_ Alphonse? Try _horrible_! What if I can never get out of your body? What if this is permanent? What if—"

"Oh my gate," Al said, horrified. "You'd have to use my body to have sex with Mustang."

"_AL_!"

"Don't you even think about it!" Al cried. "I don't want anything up there!"

"Al, seriously! You brought it up!" Ed's (Al's) face was dark red. "I'm not a fucking idiot!"

But Al was on the verge of having a panic attack. He patted at Ed's body, his eyes wide and freaked out. "Oh my gate, this body— it's been places I never wanna go—"

"_Stop talking before I punch you_!" Ed shouted.

Roy cleared his throat. "Hello, yes, I'm still here." They both shut up immediately. "Just to be clear, Alphonse… I can assure you I won't touch Ed when he's… in you. Your body. Ugh." He brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. "No offense."

"None taken, sir," Al squeaked.

Roy snorted softly. "So how the hell did you two manage this one?"

"Hell if I know!" Ed said with a scowl that looked very out of place on Al's face. "We woke up like this."

"Last night, I was doing a new kind of alchemy I learnt in Xing," Al said nervously. "I don't know what went wrong…"

"Well… undo it?" Roy didn't really know what else to suggest.

"I don't know how!" Al blurted. Gold eyes filled up with tears. "We finally got our bodies back and I messed up! I don't know what to _do_—"

"Al, calm down," Ed interrupted. "We'll just have to figure out an array to reverse it, okay? Actually," he turned back to Roy, and the general was again perturbed by the cranky look that Al's face never sported, "that's why we came to you."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "I'm nothing special in normal alchemy, Alph— uh, Ed. You know that. I can do flame alchemy, but I can't see how that will help."

"Right, you're useless."

"Shut up. That's reserved for the rainy days."

"Anyway," Ed rolled Al's eyes, "Al has this research book on this weird branch of Xingese alchemy but neither of us can read it."

"I had planned on getting Mei to help translate it when I returned," Al admitted, "but now we're in this mess. I think a code for a reverse array is hidden in that book, but my Xingese is rusty. Ed's completely clueless. The only thing he knows how to read it the characters for a couple different foods."

"So you're our last resort," Ed finished. "You speak it, right?"

A bit flustered, Roy said, "Well, yeah— a bit, anyway, but I'm not the best—"

"Doesn't matter!" Ed interrupted. He whipped a book out from underneath the dark jacket Al's body wore. "These are the notes. Please help us." Brown eyes were pleading, and despite that they weren't Ed's fiery gold ones, Roy felt himself soften. "Please, Roy."

He relented. "Okay, fine," he sighed. "I'll try."

"Oh thank god," Ed breathed, throwing his arms around Roy's neck. The general was very conflicted because he wanted to hug Ed back but it wasn't Ed but it was. He awkwardly met the gold eyes of his lover's body— which was Al currently. How awkward. Al just shrugged a bit and looked like he wanted to bash his head on the nearest wall. Roy chose to pat Ed on the back before gently moving away.

"Come back in a couple hours," he muttered, shoving his paperwork aside. "Hawkeye's going to kick my ass."

"Sorry," Al said. He sounded genuinely apologetic. Roy shook his head.

"I didn't want to do the paperwork anyway," he sighed.

Ed looked nervous. "Are you mad?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Just… just… I dunno…"

"Well, I'm not."

"Okay." Ed tittered there. "I was— well, I was gonna kiss you but—"

"Please don't," Al whispered.

"I won't," Ed snapped. He stormed towards the door. "Come on, Al."

Al quickly said another thank-you to the general and hurried after Ed. Just before the doors were about to close, something popped into Roy's head. Smirking, he called, "Edward?"

Al's head poked back in through the door and Ed asked, "What?"

"Are you sure you're completely distraught with this?"

An uncertain look. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, you're a couple inches taller now."

Ed glared, said a very dirty cuss word, flipped him the bird and then slammed the door shut. Roy smirked a bit more and then looked down at the Xingese documents on his desk. He groaned when he read the title: _Architecture of the Ancient Xingese Dynasty._ Fantastic. It looked to be a thrilling read. Not.

"The things I do for you, Ed," he muttered.

Today was a suckish day indeed.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Pointless. Yep. Why did I write this?**


	11. Kernel Mustang

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Hey look, another drabble coming from this sleep-depraved author. I'm gonna warn you guys, this one's just a little bit stupider than previous ones, but it's based off of personal experience. Sort of. I just tweaked it a lot because I am obviously not a sexy colonel who can snap my fingers and cause a spark. Which really sucks. Imagine if I was Roy Mustang. I think I'd spend all my time in front of the mirror talking.**

**Also… yeah I sorta gave up on that Facebook thing xD **

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**Title: Kernel Mustang**

**Rating: K – T for swearing**

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Damn, he was starving. Hell, not even starving— so desperate for some form of nourishment that he felt that every moment he went without it, his stomach was slowly digesting itself. It sucked. Like really bad.

He stared at the analog clock on the wall and willed the annoying tick and tock to speed up so that he could take his damned break and freaking eat some food. He had been signing paperwork for at least three hours— at some point Fullmetal had skipped in and said hello and thrown a brown paper bag at him, claiming he'd made him a lunch— and he had been running late this morning, so he was running off of the small piece of chocolate cake and coffee he'd had before bed last night. His eyes bore into the paper bag Ed had brought him. He swore that the tick-tock of the clock and the paper bag's very existence were mocking him by saying _Ha-ha, Roy, you don't get to eat me! You have to wait! Na-na-na-boo-boo!_

"Shut uuupp," he groaned. He was sort of worried about himself. He was talking to clocks and paper bags. That wasn't good. Maybe his hunger was so bad that he was starting to go crazy. Get whithdrawals or whatever. Lose brain power. Shut down. _Diieee._

_Seriously, moron, just eat meee. _

But Hawkeye would kill him if she found him slacking again. He glumly signed another piece of paper.

_I am heeeeere. You must eat meee._

That damned imaginary voice sounded a lot like Edward. How irritating.

_Eat me, and sign paperwork while you're doing it. Simple math, Mustang._

Except if he got food on the documents the entire world would end. Well, maybe not. But it would be bad. They were all official and stuff. He was too hungry to really care what they were about, though, and boredly signed another.

Then the stupid voice and his stomach started singing in harmony, and he decided that he could deal with Hawkeye's evilness if she found him eating and not signing paperwork. Fuck it. He was hungry and he was going to eat the damned food. He shoved his paperwork aside and grabbed the paper bag. Inside was a small metal container, with a little note that had what Roy could recognize as Ed's messy handwriting scrawled on it.

_**Hello, shit head. :)**_

_**I saw you running late this morning and since you left without grabbing a lunch— or even saying good-bye, sheesh, way to be a jerk— I decided I'd make you one. Yes, I'm awesome. Yes, you owe me. You can pay me back by coming home and baking me some brownies, because you love me. If you don't, then I'm going to kick you in every genital you own. **_

_**-Ed**_

_**P.S.: I'M REALLY MAD AT YOU FOR NOT SAYING BYE TO ME THIS MORNING SO THIS IS PAYBACK YOU FUCKER. **_

The last part confused Roy a bit— Ed was so… unpredictable. Still, the rest of the note made him smile. He set it down and opened the container. His mood dropped faster than Havoc's pants at the mention of a naked busty woman.

Inside was a single piece of corn, with a toothpick stuck through it. On the end of the toothpick there was a little paper, and when Roy grabbed it— a bit ferociously, because he was starving _and_ pissed now— he saw that it said 'kernel Mustang' with a very dorky caricature of him grinning cheesily on the side. He stared at it for a very long time.

"Ed," he muttered. "Why. Why would you do this to me."

There was another note inside the container. He opened it, trying very hard not to get up and jump out of his window.

_**Just to let you know, you don't actually owe me anything. I just thought I would be nice and NEGLECT YOU LIKE YOU NEGLECTED ME YOU BASTARD.**_

_**SAY GOOD MORNING NEXT TIME AND MAYBE I WON'T BE SO MEAN.**_

_**Anyway, I love you. Have a good day.**_

_**-Ed**_

_**P.S.: Yes, I know you want to kill me, but when you come home, the rest of that corn will be on the table. And possibly some steak and mashed potatoes, but hey— if you kill me, that ain't happening. So let's turn that frown upside-down and finish that paperwork, okay? :D See you at six!**_

Roy could practically hear Ed laughing evilly as he reread the letter in disbelief. He groaned, letting his head fall forward onto his desk.

"Why the hell do I put up with you?" he muttered under his breath. He looked again at the little piece of corn that had the 'kernel Mustang' note attached to it, a sour look coming over his face.

_Because you love me_, it said in Ed's voice. Then his stomach whined pitifully.

He groaned again and slammed his forehead on the desk.

"Shut _up_."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: My friend did something like this to me. I almost murdered her. Don't mess with me and food. It just gets unnecessarily messy and gory and—well, let's not go there.**

**Well, I'm going to get some sleep. Maybe I can write something with a purpose then. LOL**


	12. The Truth about Milk

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Oh, look. Another thing written by me based off of personal experiences. **

**I was talking to my sister and I was like "Milk is so weird like what is it even it's just cow liquid" and she was like "no bro it's liquid cheese". I am fairly positive that I will never, ever be able to look at milk the same ever again. I hate cheese. Now I hate milk, too. I mean, I never really liked it in the first place, but now there's a very very slim chance that I'll ever drink it ever again.**

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**Title: Liquid Cheese**

**Rating: T but only for swearing and a sexual innuendo thingamajig and it's really stupid D:**

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Ed curled his lip at the glass Roy was holding his way. Nose scrunched, he looked up into the expectant eyes of his lover. "What the fuck is this?" he asked in disgust.

Roy raised an eyebrow. "This, Edward, is milk. Surely you've heard of it."

"Of course I've fucking heard of it," Ed sneered. He jabbed an accusatory finger at Roy. "What I _meant_ is _why the fuck would you bring that to me_?"

"So you can drink it."

"Did you miss the memo? I don't drink milk. Period."

"I know," Roy said patiently, although his left eyebrow twitched. Still with the calm face, he shoved it closer to Ed, who recoiled as if it was poison or a severed arm or something. "You're the one constantly complaining about your lack of height and the like. I don't think it'll kill you to drink a glass."

Ed was curled up on the couch, hissing at him like a cat. Roy was amused, to say the least, and let a smirk spread across his face. He put the milk close to Ed's face. Ed swatted at his hand, nearly causing him to drop the glass. He then had to hastily place the glass on the coffee table as Ed growled and tackled him back onto the couch, pinning his wrists to the cushions. Roy was still smirking, and it only pissed Ed off more.

"I'm not drinking it," he said dangerously, gold eyes narrowed to slits. "Don't fucking try to make me because I'll kick you where the sun don't shine, you fucker."

Roy shrugged, still with that smirk, knowing Ed would never follow through. "It's not a big deal, Ed. You'd probably be almost as tall as I am if you drank it more often."

"You're not even that tall!" Ed griped. "What are you, like… fuckin'… you're only a few inches taller than me! You're shorter than Havoc and Falman and—"

"But still taller than you," Roy said smugly.

"_Anyway_," Ed said loudly, giving him a warning glare, "I'm not going to drink that milk. So don't even try." He sat back on Roy's hips, folding his arms and scowling. "What _is_ milk, anyway? It's secreted from a fucking cow. That's the nastiest fucking thing I've ever heard in my entire life. It's like cow jizz."

Roy had to choke down a laugh. "You don't seem to have a problem with swallowing _my_—"

"_Roy_!" He really did laugh this time as Ed flushed furiously and smacked him upside the head. Ed was glaring, his face dark red. "Don't say shit like that."

Roy grinned. "If anything, I'd say milk is more like… liquid cheese."

Ed blanched. "No. No." He moaned, covering his face with his hands. "Oh, great, you fucking ruined cheese for me." When he pulled his hands away, he looked faintly ill. Roy snickered. Ed glared, but it looked half-assed because he looked like he was going to have an emotional breakdown. "I hate you. I am _never_ eating cheese _ever_ again."

Roy was laughing his ass off. "Sorry," he got out through sniggers. "Your face is priceless right now."

Ed's fists pounded (rather ineffectively) at his chest. "Shut up!" he wailed. "You're ruining my life! I just had cheese earlier! I think I'm gonna be sick… Liquid cheese…"

"It's like a cheese smoothie."

"Goddamnit, Roy!"

"A puréed blend of cheddar and mozzarella—"

"Shut up! _Shut up_!"

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Milk is so… weird.**


	13. Nature Calls

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Ugh, I had to do a 3-hour drive to and back today. What a pain. Luckily, it gave me the chance to write two drabbles and think up some ideas for oneshots and the like. And some inspiration for one of my other RoyEd fics, **_**Crush**_**! Maybe I'll be able to get shit done for once! **

**Also, I'd like to give a huge thanks! I see some of you who review a lot of my stories and almost every chapter of this little drabble series, and each one makes me grin like a complete idiot. Especially RikuAnimeloverButler, Loreyulia, Epic F. Awesomesauce, Flame-Metal-Heart, KKChibiChop, mochiusagi, ****yamixyugi-Sasunaru-yaoi-lover****, DeViLaNgEl11, RosettaEvans16, Neppi-chan, summerhazel and LeFay Strent. If I didn't mention you, I'm sorry, but I still love you, don't worry. C: You guys have literally given me so many reviews and I want you all to know that even though I don't know you, I am sending you HUGE hugs because you guys often make my day. ****Seriously, thanks so much. I'm so happy that I can share my little obsession that is RoyEd with you guys. :)**

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**Title: Nature Calls**

**Rating: T for language**

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The room was dark. A faint light came in through the crack in the heavy curtains, softly bathing the small room and its contents— a queen-sized bed, a thick dark blue comforter, a wooden dresser, a cozy-looking chair in front of an oak desk— with a delicate white glow. The window was cracked an inch open and the sounds of crickets chirping, a faint wind howling and soft breathing were the only sounds to break the otherwise deafening silence.

One of the occupants of the bed shifted, making the heavy comforter slide across bare skin and cotton sheets in a nearly muted whisper. There was a soft groan as amber eyes blinked open and peered into the darkness. Sleep made his brain fuzzy and clouded his senses, and for a moment, he lay there, blinking, trying to keep his heavy eyelids from falling shut again. After a few seconds, he was fully awake— or awake enough to feel the hard arm curled around his waist and a warm body encircling him, at least— and he let out another drowsy murmur as he stretched his stiff back as well as he could in the embrace.

For a moment, he wondered why he'd woken up so early in the morning— a quick glance at the ticking clock on the wall told him it was only three A.M. Shifting, he realized there was a pressure in his lower abdomen, so obnoxious now that he 'd discovered it that it actually made the toes of his flesh foot tingle for the need for release. Annoyed, he debated ignoring it and falling back asleep, but it seemed stubborn and was quickly making him more antsy than ever.

He tried for a futile moment to squirm out of the embrace. Flushing when he was unsuccessful, he grumbled and tried yanking the arm away from his waist, then tried ducking under it, then finally grew extremely frustrated and tried to squirm around and make his anaconda of a lover let go— but to no avail. He gnawed on his lip, trying very hard to ignore the beckoning call of his bladder telling him he needed to go to the bathroom _now_.

"Damn it," he said under his breath. "Roy." He shook the man's shoulder, and when there was no response, did it harder. Roy simply murmured something in his sleep, eyelids twitching underneath the messy, inky black bangs that made Ed's tummy heat up, and remained asleep. Cheeks burning, Ed let out an impatient growl and shook him again. "Bastard!"

There was a low, rumbly groan. "Mmmmnn."

Ed rolled his eyes, purposely digging his metal fingers into Roy's shoulders. The body next to him flinched slightly, but Roy only tightened his arm around Ed, not quite awake yet. Ed squirmed desperately. He had to go to the bathroom so bad his bladder was going to explode if he didn't get out of bed within the next minute.

Ed bit his lip and stared at the smooth expanse of skin that was Roy's chest, mind whirring on how to go about waking him up. Ed was convinced the man could sleep through a hurricane. Finally, he settled on kicking and biting and squirming until Roy finally let out something like a growl and dragged heavy eyelids open.

"_What_." His voice was deep and husky and rough from sleep, and absolutely dripping with venom. Ed might have rolled his eyes, but he was too desperate for the bathroom.

He wriggled desperately, gold eyes pleading. His hand clawed at the arm around his waist. "Let me go," he whispered, yanking uselessly at it. Still half-asleep, Roy blinked owlishly, watching with a detached sort of curiosity. "Please. Now."

"Why?" Roy sounded so drowsy and sincerely confused that Ed was torn between wanting to kick him and wanting to hug him for being a cute sleepyhead. He chose the former, eliciting a low grunt.

"Fucking _move your arm_—"

"No," Roy muttered, eyes sliding back shut. "I'm comfy."

"Damn it, you bastard! This is— this is a matter of life and death here!"

"But you're cute, and warm, and I don't want to let you go."

Ed thought vaguely that it was weird that a thirty-some year-old man could pull off the pouty voice without looking like a complete dumbass. He didn't dwell on that too long, though, the need to pee too persistent and making his already thin patience turn to something similar to nylon.

"I'm going to fucking murder your firstborn child and eat it with fucking garlic toast if you don't fucking move your fucking arm, fucker."

Roy snorted softly, eyes sleepily opening again. "Firstborn child? Really? Is one of us suddenly developing a uterus or am I imagining the fact that you have a dick, Edward?"

Ed stared in disbelief. How the hell could Roy be such a sarcastic fucker when he was half-asleep? "Shut the fuck up and let me go!"

"Mm. Charming as ever, darling."

Ed snarled at the pet name, biting Roy's shoulder to show he was serious, because oh, this was serious as _fuck_. "Just move your damn _arm_!"

"_Fine_," Roy finally muttered, loosening his hold on Ed irritably. As soon as he was able to move, Ed was on his feet and sprinting out of the room. "Where are you going?"

Ed could hear the pout in his voice clear as day as he zoomed down the hallway to the bathroom. "I need to fucking piss, you bastard!" he screeched. "I almost fucking pissed myself and it's your fault!"

He heard Roy indignantly mutter something, but he was too busy dying of happiness and rainbows and other wonderful sparkly things as they pressure in his bladder was finally released to really listen or care. "Finally," he sighed.

In the bedroom, he heard Roy let out a derisive snort. "You could've said you needed the washroom."

"As if that would have made a difference, Mr. Cuddles," Ed muttered under his breath.

"I heard that. And of course it would have— I don't want you ruining my sheets. Also, never call me that ever again."

"I bought the damn sheets!" Ed griped.

"It's my bed."

"It's _our_ bed. It became that the first time we fucked on it, bastard."

Hn." It seemed Roy had no response to that. "Well, I still wouldn't want you to piss yourself while I'm lying next to you."

"Then let me go next time I say so, you jerk!" Ed finished up and washed his hands, stumbling through the dark back to the bedroom. In the faint moonlight, he could see Roy's smirk, and shot him a glare. "You suck," he muttered, snuggling back underneath the covers.

Roy sighed, wrapping his arm around his waist again and pulling him close. "_So sorry_ that I like to _hold_ you."

"Sorry don't cut it when my bladder is about to unleash the next fuckin' state war, bastard," Ed grumbled into his chest.

Roy chuckled quietly. "Right. I'm so sorry, Edward, and I love you. Also, you're incredibly hot and talented and tall and not short at all." He grinned against Ed's tangled gold hair. "Am I off the hook now?"

Ed snorted. "I'll think about it."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I think the idea of Ed having to pee really bad but not being able to because Roy is like no I demand cuddles damn it is a really funny one. :D I hope you guys think so too!**

**One more thing before I shut up— if you guys want to leave prompts or ideas for drabbles/oneshots for this series feel free to do so! I might not write all of them, but I'll try my best to choose the ones I like best and write something for them. Don't be shy. I don't bite. Hard. ;) **

**Peace out!**


	14. Scars

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: This one's kinda angsty ;3;**

**Also, I'm really glad you guys liked the last drabble so much. xD **

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**Title: Scars**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

He's doing it again.

From their bedroom, he can see the dim glow of the light from the bathroom down the hall. The soft light gleams on the hardwood flooring. The bed and sheets next to him are warm— Ed hadn't been gone very long. Roy knows, though. He knows that it doesn't take long for this to happen. It had been going on since the first time they slept together.

He tosses the heavy blankets off of himself and stands up. He grabs a loose T-shirt and throws it on over his boxer briefs, because the house is chilly at night and he can feel it even through the cotton. Then, being careful to avoid that squeaky floorboard right by the door, he leaves their room and pads softly down the hall.

He hears muffled sobs. They are muted slightly by the door, which is only open a fraction, but they are still loud and pure enough to break Roy's heart a little bit more with each and every one. Quietly, he pushes open the door. He already knows what he will find. Even though the image is burnt into his mind, it isn't any less painful to see.

Ed stands in front of the mirror in nothing but his boxers. His hair is loose and tumbles down his back in a waterfall of golden waves, his tanned skin glowing a pale caramel in the light. Scars mar his otherwise flawless skin, flecks of darker or lighter flesh dotting along his back, the right side of his torso, his leg, and his back and stomach, where he had almost died by becoming an Edward-kabob. His body is small, but underneath soft skin Roy knows there are wiry muscles that allow Ed to move as quickly as he does. Roy's heart always feels a little funny when he looks at Edward— the boy, scars and all, is beautiful. He really, with all of his heart, believes that.

The only thing ruining it is the tears trailing silently down his cheeks. Wetness in fiery gold eyes. Water snubbing the flame. They gather in his eyes, bead up, then fall, and his shoulders wrack with another sob. Slowly, as if in a trance, Edward's fingers come up to run shakily along the jagged scar marring his right shoulder, collarbone and chest, and he lets out a breath that trembles with repressed pain and sorrow and regret and agony. Roy can't take seeing this anymore. Without saying anything, he walks forward and lulls Ed into an embrace, pulling him away from the mirror and towards himself. He feels wetness on his shirt and has to swallow past a painful lump in his throat when Edward's mismatched fingers make fists in the cloth and he chokes on another sob.

He doesn't ask what's wrong, because he knows. He doesn't murmur comforting words, he doesn't tell Ed everything will be okay— because he can't promise something that might not come true. So he stands there without saying a word, holding Ed close to his heart until sobs turn to sniffles and sniffles fade to thick swallows.

Finally, Roy pulls back, just enough to be able to look down at Ed's tear-stained face. "Hey," he says softly, gently pushing messy blond bangs away from damp gold eyes. "Are you okay?"

Ed's gaze returns to the mirror. He swallows hard, his flesh hand coming up to touch automail scars again. Looking away from his reflection, he hesitantly meets Roy's searching black eyes. "It's just…"

"I know." And he does.

Ed blinks quickly, like he's trying not to cry again. "I hate this," he whispers, finally squeezing his eyes shut and burying his face into Roy's chest. "I hate looking in the mirror and seeing this. _Them_." His fingers curl angrily into a fist on his shoulder and his voice is thick. "My scars. I hate being reminded _every day_ of what I did. It's hard enough seeing Alphonse in the armor— I can't even look in the mirror without hating myself." Roy's arms tighten around him, and Ed lets out another sob. Roy can feel wetness on his shirt again. "I don't even know what to do anymore. We've been searching for so long, and we're nowhere closer to returning ourselves back to how we were. What if there's no way?" His voice rises hysterically with every word. "What if I can never return Al to his body? What if we can't go back? This is _my fault_ and I don't even know what to _do_."

Roy is not the best at comforting others, because he doesn't like to sugar coat things and he refuses to tell someone a beautiful lie when the reality may very well be a painful truth. Still, he can't stand seeing Edward like this— it breaks his heart. Bending slightly to Ed's level, he offers a half-smile (though he's sure it looks more like a grimace; he can't find it in him to smile when Ed is in pain) and softly says, "Listen, Ed. I've told you this before. I can't guarantee you will be able to get yourselves back to normal, but you can't let it bring you down like this. Do you know what will happen if you do?" Ed looks at him with big, sad, watery eyes. "You'll lose hope. You can't do that— you have to keep walking. Isn't that what you told that girl in Liore?"

"Rose," Ed whispers.

"You told her that she has two strong legs, so she should get up and use them." Roy trails his fingers along Ed's metal leg. He's not even sure if Ed notices, but he doesn't care. "You should take your own advice."

"But—" Ed's voice breaks. Tears gather in his eyes and his lip trembles as he tries not to let them fall. "But I don't," he finally gets out, his voice cracking. "I fucked up and I bound Al to an empty shell and I lost two limbs—I… I don't know how to keep _walking_ when my legs are just as weak as the rest of me. I _don't_ have two strong legs."

"Yes you do," Roy says firmly. "People make mistakes, Edward, and yours have made you who you are today. You aren't weak. You're the strongest person I know. You're _fifteen_ and you've seen more than _I_ have. There's a reason you're named Fullmetal, you know." Ed softens a little bit. "You _are_ fullmetal. You're strong. These legs aren't weak." He grips them firmly in his hands, holding Ed's gaze steadily to make sure he understands. "Maybe one of them isn't real, but think of who made it, and the reason you decided to get it— Winry and Alphonse. Your friends. _They_ are your life and they make you strong. Your automail doesn't make you weak. It makes you _you_, and you, Edward Elric, are strong."

The tears in Ed's eyes finally spill over. With a barely-swallowed sob, he throws his arms around Roy's neck and buries his face in his chest and cries. This time is different— the sobs are less heart-broken and more relieved, as if Roy had somehow lifted a million pound weight off of Ed's shoulders. This time, he really does smile, planting a soft kiss on the crown of Ed's golden head.

"I j-just…" Eyes red and puffy, Ed pulls back slightly, angling his head up. He sniffles. "I… How do you…"

Roy furrows his brow. "What?"

"How do you… do that?" When Roy still looks lost, Ed swallows and looks away. With a light flush, he continues, "I mean… how do you manage to make me… make me feel… like I'm…"

"Perfect?" Roy suggests with a smile when it's evident Ed can't find a word.

Ed's flush darkens. "Something like that," he mutters. He looks up again. "How do you do it? Even when I… I'm so…" He glances to the mirror. "Ugly. Look at my scars," he mumbles in disgust.

"You're not ugly." Roy trails the back of his fingers lightly across Ed's jaw and down his neck, smiling a bit when Ed shudders. He finds the scars on Ed's shoulder and collarbone. "Your scars are a part of you too. They're beautiful. And so are you."

Ed's eyes seem to glimmer. "You really think so?"

"Of course." Roy smiles gently again. "You might not be perfect, Ed, but you're perfect to me."

Ed softens and his lips relax, like he might smile. He lets his forehead fall forward onto Roy's chest, mismatched arms tightening around him. "Thank you," he says quietly.

"Anytime." He cups Ed's cheek in his hand and wipes away the wetness there with his thumb. "No more tears?" he murmurs.

Ed's lips twitch up into a wobbly smile and he places his metal hand over Roy's. "No more tears."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I suck at conclusions ;-; I wanted it to be more, but I just… *ERROR 404 BRAIN NOT FOUND***

**I didn't manage to write this exactly how it played out in my head, but I think it turned out ok enough… *cuddles in fluff***


	15. Romantic

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Mehh, I've been so busy lately. High School is a bitch. Also, my PMs are being wacky and that added on top of the fact that I'm super busy is why I haven't been answering PMs. Sorry, ;_;**

**Oooh, I'm so glad so many people liked my last drabble. :L It was one of my favourites too.**

**One last thing, this was written on my iPod so if there are any errors I'm sorry. Autocorrect is a shit. Also, anything like /this/ is in italics.** **Ok I am done talkiinggg**

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**Title: Romantic**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Oh for fuck's sake."

Ed glanced away from his novel and up to the source of the irately muttered words. Sipping at his mug of hot chocolate and wincing when the sweet liquid scalded his tongue, he quickly sucked in a cold breath and choked for a minute before finally standing up and walking over to where Roy sat cross-legged on the bay window seat.

"What?" It came out weird because his tongue was burnt.

Roy looked at him sourly and pointed at the window. "Look," he said. His voice was full of contempt. "Does that look like rain to you?" Ed followed his finger and saw a cluster of black clouds roiling in the nearby distance.

He took a careful sip of his hot chocolate before casually saying, "Yeah, it's calling for it. Why?"

Without answering right away, Roy took the cup from Ed's hands and tipped it back. Ed frowned indignantly and snatched it back.

"You're acting even more idiotic that normal," he observed, carefully holding the mug out of the sulky brunet's reach. "It's gonna rain, so what?"

"So what?" Roy lower jaw protruded defiantly as if Ed was a complete moron. "I /was/ going to take you out on a date tonight, you know. There's no way in hell I'm going out there if it rains." He reached out again. "Share that hot chocolate, will you?"

Ed rolled his eyes and held it away. "Fuck off. And what is it with you and getting wet?"

"It's just a thing, okay?" Roy sighed. He uncrossed his legs and sat so that he was facing Ed. His dark eyes looked quite pouty, and Ed could barely repress the smirk he felt tugging at his lips. "Anyway," Roy went on, ignoring Ed and his attempts to stop from smiling, "I was going to take you to that new cafe that opened. The outdoor one. You're not my subordinate anymore and we don't have to hide now so I thought it'd be nice." He glared at the clouds. "Stupid nature fucking things up."

This time Ed really did chuckle. He sat down next to Roy and grinned at him. "You're really cute sometimes, did you know that?"

Roy's glare turned to him. "I'm a man," he said indignantly. "Men are not cute."

"Sometimes I wonder about that."

"What?"

"Nothing." Ed grinned again. "Look, that's sweet of you and all, but we can do it another time." As he was talking, a few drops of rain patterned down on the window. Roy's pouty look got worse and Ed couldn't help but put his mug down so that he could pull him into a tight hug because Roy honestly looked so disappointed it made Ed's heart feel all fluttery and happy. He slid his arms around the brunet's waist and set his chin in the dip of his collarbone , looking up at him with a huge grin. "It's supposed to be nice this weekend. How 'bout then?"

Roy sighed. "I have to work. This is my last day off for two weeks."

"Hm." Ed bit his lip, then said, "Well, your next night off then. No exceptions. We're going out then."

"But what are we going to do today then?" It was pouring by now. Ed shifted his head so that he could look out the window at the dark outside and the sheets of water pelting the concrete. Trees were starting to sway in a gusty wind and the wind chime on the neighbor's front porch was tinkling an uneven tune. A small smile curved his lips.

"Why don't we just do this?"

"This?" Roy Inclined himself slightly so that Ed was curled up on his chest. Ed let out a pleased sigh.

"Yeah. This." His cheeks turned a light pink. "We could just lie here and look at the rain," he said quietly. "I used to do this a lot with Al and Winry when I was younger… I miss it."

Ed didn't look, but he could tell Roy smiled. "Okay, then."

He was a bit surprised. He looked at Roy with wide eyes. "You're going to sit here and watch the rain with me? You? Mr. Hydrophobic?"

"Why not?" Roy shrugged. "I'm not watching the rain, anyway." His lips quirked up when Ed looked slightly confused.

"What?"

"I'm watching /you/, idiot."

Ed turned red and looked back out the window. "Why?" he muttered. "You creep."

Roy chuckled and softly ran a hand down Ed's back, smiling again when Ed shivered a bit and automatically curled closer. "You look peaceful when you're watching the rain. Happy. I like seeing you without any pain in your eyes."

"You're cheesy," Ed mumbled, but he was red and fighting a smile. He snuggled closer. "All we need now is chocolate and sappy background music and it's a scene out of one of your damn corny romance novels."

Roy let out a soft snort. "I doubt we could ever achieve something so sickeningly sweet and perfect."

"Maybe we could," Ed said thoughtfully, eyes following a drop of water racing down the window. "With a bunch of insulting and fighting and bitching."

"That defeats the purpose."

"I guess. But I don't think I'd like it if we didn't argue."

"It would be weird," Roy agreed.

"Eww. Imagine us being all cute and you like, whisk me away into the sunset or something." Ed sniggered. "Can you see that? It's be friggin' weird."

Roy rolled his eyes. "You're a moron."

"Shut up you shit-head, that's funny as fuck and you know it."

"This is as close to romantic as we'll ever get, isn't it?"

"Probably."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: ;A; Oh for shit's sake, these two kill me I love them sooo**


	16. Butterflies

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: ;3; Weddings are one of the best things ever. They make me cry like a bitch. I was on Tumblr and one of the RP blogs I occasioannyl creep and follow and stuff had an RP about Ed being all excited for his wedding and I just fkhewbrhjwebr I needed to write something like that because I just died of happiness and feels and everything good.**

**If anyone asks, I might write the actual wedding when he walks down the aisle and stuff. I really, really just wanted to write the pre-wedding thing. Oh and I've never really been to a wedding as anything other than a guest, so I'm not sure how they're all organized and shiz, but I figure Ed wouldn't want to be treated like a bride and he'd just want to do things his way, so yeah. That's where this came from. **

**Also,Winry. My BROTP is EdWin if that even makes sense. I don't ship it romantically but their friendship makes me fucking happy. (If anyone cares I'm cosplaying as Winry for Halloween eue I'm excited)**

**Sorry I'm done talking now, sheesh why do I talk so much**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Butterflies**

**Rating: K**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

_This is it. It's really happening._

His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat, like it was trying to jump up into his mouth. It was almost making him dizzy. Everything around him seemed to blend into a blur of slow-motion that did not match his racing heart or reeling mind. Countless thoughts flew through his head, thoughts that he normally never had but somehow were critical right now. _Do I look okay? Is this real? God, I hope I don't trip walking down the aisle, that would be _so _embarrassing… oh, shit, shit, am I blushing? Damn it! _

He tried to tone down the flush, but couldn't. His cheeks were stained red and hot. His palms were clammy, his legs shaky and his stomach addled with fluttering butterflies. He was so nervous and excited and scared and _everything_ that he couldn't focus on anything except for the doors he was standing outside of. He could hear the chattering coming from inside the building, but he paid as much attention to it as he would a pesky fly.

Swallowing to try to get rid of the inexplicable lump of emotion in his throat, he glanced around— it was a temperate day, not too sunny and not too chilly. Risembool was always peaceful, and right now the familiarity placated him a little bit. Fluffy white clouds littered the blue sky and birds chirped in the distance. He tried to focus on their song. He had to calm down. It was almost time, and he couldn't walk in looking like an emotional wreck. He _was_ an emotional wreck, but that was beside the point.

Winry stood next to him. She was saying something, but he couldn't make himself focus on it. She suddenly appeared in his line of sight, her blue eyes concerned. "Edward, are you even in there?"

Ed snapped out of it. With a start, he shakily said, "Yeah. Sorry. I just—"

She smiled at him. Her hair was swept up into a sidebun, loose curls framing her delicate face. She had on a hint of mascara and blush, with nothing else, but she looked beautiful. Ed felt his heart swell and he was endlessly grateful that his best friend was here— he probably would have had an emotional breakdown if she hadn't gotten his attention. "It's okay," she reassured him as she pulled him into a tight hug. "You're just nervous," she whispered, squeezing him comfortingly before pulling back to look at him with another smile. "But don't be. It's going to be fine. You look amazing. I told you that would be the best suit to get," she said with a wink, patting his arms. He was wearing the black suit she'd insisted on, the tie a bit looser than it should be and the shirt untucked. Being all tucked in a buttoned up made him feel like he was suffocating, but now he was wondering if he should fix himself up. Did it look like he didn't care? Because he did— he did a lot.

He started fixing the tie. "Should I—"

"No," she slapped his hands away, "don't change anything. You look fine. You look like Ed." She gave a sideways smile. "You wouldn't look right if you wore it all done up and proper. You look like yourself and you look great, so stop worrying, 'kay?"

Ed tried to smile, but he was so wracked with nerves despite her reassurances that it was wobbly and weak. He was happy—no, he was _ecstatic, _he was so damn excited— but god, the _nerves_. This was so stressful. "What if I trip?" he whispered. Then he turned dark red. He hadn't meant to say that. Winry's pink lips quirked up and she let out a soft laugh.

"Then who cares? Everyone knows you're a huge klutz, anyway." Her eyes sparkled. "Plus, Roy loves it." This made Ed flush dark red again. She giggled. "_Stop worrying_, Ed. Everyone here is your friend and we all love you and we're happy for you. Nothing is going to go wrong. Take a deep breath, okay? Like this." She inhaled slowly, gesturing for him to do the same. "Now out." She exhaled. Ed copied her, his shoulders slumping forward.

"Okay," he said, nodding. "You're right. I can do this."

"Of course you can." Her smile was dazzling. "I'm so happy for you, Ed. You look like a nervous wreck but you look happy. I don't think I've ever seen you look this happy, actually. Maybe when you got Al's body back so many years ago, but that was different. This… this is crazy." She hugged him again. Her voice was thick and Ed felt his own eyes becoming wet again. "I'm so happy for you," she whispered again, shutting her eyes. Ed hugged her close, taking comfort in her familiar presence. He didn't know how to answer, so he tried to show her how thankful he was for her support by hugging her tight.

She pulled away, wiping at her eyes and blinking fast. "Okay," she breathed. "I'm going to go sit with Al now. You're sure you don't want me to walk with you or something?"

Ed nodded. "I'm not a girl," he scowled. "And plus, it's not like I can walk down the aisle on my dad's arm, now is it?" Then he smiled and shook his head. "I want to do it alone."

"Okay." With another grin and a quick hug, she whispered, "Good luck" and then disappeared inside the building. After talking to her, Ed felt a lot more relaxed. He was still nervous, but he forced himself not to think about it and just smile the smile that he couldn't make himself fight anymore. The racing heart, clammy hands, tummy flutters and flushed cheeks, well— he'd just have to make do with those.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: MARRIAGE IS CUUUUUUUUUUUUTEEEEE **

**I mean**

**love is cute always but**

**marriage makes me cry**

**;A;**


	17. Little Black Book

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Oohh which one of you was it who said I should torture Havoc some more? D: I can't remember. Well, whoever you are you fabulous person you, have some more Havoc being awkward! *throws awkward Havocs at people***

**Oh, and I WILL WRITE THE MARRIAGE SCENE WOOP WOOP just sayin'**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Little Black Book**

**Rating: T – M ish**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Come on, boss. At least _one_ of your girlfriends must be willing to go on a date." Havoc sounded absolutely miserable, like a man who had gone many days without water. Well, maybe not that bad— but he _had_ gone months without a date, and in his books, that was nearly as bad as going without water. He let out a long groan of agony. "I'm positive my dick is going to invert if I don't get laid soon. Do you know how that feels?" When Roy made no response, Havoc sighed dramatically. "Of _course_ not. You hog all the damn ladies in Central."

Roy was too exhausted and irritable to really care about whatever Havoc was going on about, and barely glanced up from his paperwork. He did, however, roll his eyes, knowing Havoc wouldn't notice. He had a lot of work to do— he didn't have _time_ to listen to Jean prattle on about how he longed for a girlfriend and how everything good and holy in the world was as good as the devil's work because of his lack of dates. The colonel had slacked off enough today— which he somehow didn't regret, despite that it left him rushing now— and god knows he was going to get an earful from his lieutenant.

And… actually, he was pretty sure _Havoc_ shouldn't have time, either— he had a lot of work to do as well, Roy was sure— but nonetheless the dirty blond man continued pouting and grumbling until Roy couldn't help but let out an aggravated sigh and give him a watery-eyed glare. Damn, his head was pounding. Maybe he'd caught something.

"I don't know, Jean. Really." He didn't look up from his paperwork. Sticking the pen between his teeth, he stopped to organize a stack of papers and then go back to work, glancing up once at Havoc with a sort of apologetic look. "I guess I could ask Jennifer… she'd probably like you… but I haven't talked to her in a while, and," he chuckled, somewhat darkly. "I don't think she would take kindly to receiving a phone call from me after so long."

There was a snort from the other side of the room. Ed, who was stuck in Mustang's office re-writing a report, was smirking at him. He'd been silent until now— apparently Havoc's bitching didn't interest him, either— but the opportunity to poke fun at and torture Roy was always too good to pass up.

"What?" he said smugly, flicking his pen between the fingers in his left hand and pointing one Roy's way. "Let me guess. You bought her dinner, got her hopes up, fucked her then left. Right?" He clucked his tongue. "You're kind of an asshole. Your routine needs some work."

Roy scowled. "Shut up and finish your report, Fullmetal," he ordered flatly.

Ed just grinned and muttered something like "Knew it", which Roy graciously chose to ignore. Sighing, he looked back up to Havoc, who had an expectant look on his face.

"What?" he said warily, slinking down in his leather chair. Man, his head was pounding. Couldn't they see he wasn't in the mood for this?

"You must know _someone_," Havoc urged. "I'm _desperate_, boss. I haven't had a girlfriend in months!"

"Well, neither have I," Roy muttered. He blatantly ignored Ed's snickering and went on, "I've been busy. You know, work and such. I haven't had time for a date."

"What?" Havoc said exasperatedly. "Don't lie! You just had a whole damn week off! You can't tell me you didn't go on a date at least once! You're, like… the King of all Dates, man!" Ed seemed to find this all very amusing and sniggered again, simply rolling his eyes when Roy shot another warning glare. "I know what this is," Havoc said sourly, not noticing the little exchange between the two. "You just want to hog all the women for yourself."

Ed snorted. Roy glared at him. "_Shut up and write your report before I incinerate you_." Rolling his eyes again, Ed picked up his pen and started writing. Roy finally turned to Havoc once more and said wearily, "Don't be ridiculous."

"Ridiculous?" Havoc guffawed. "Just sayin' it how it is!"

"You're so blind it's killing me," Roy grumbled. "Go get some life glasses."

"Life glasses?"

"Life… glasses that help you see realities of life. You...ugh. I don't know— I'm fucking tired, just shut up."

"Maybe you should get more sleep."

Roy shot a sidelong glare at Ed, who was wearing a smug smirk. "I try. Trust me."

Then Ed looked up, grinning widely. "Hey, Havoc," he said. "You know, you shouldn't get too upset. Bastard's been pretty busy lately. If someone's hogging all the ladies and keeping you from getting a date, it's not him. He hasn't been out for a couple months."

Roy looked at him suspiciously. He didn't know whether it would be better to throw a book at the blond or to stay silent and let Havoc figure things out. He chose the latter, sighing under his breath and letting Ed do whatever. He probably couldn't make Roy have a worse headache than he already did. Probably.

Havoc was giving Ed this weird look. "How would you know?"

Ed shrugged. "Have _you_ seen him out on a date lately?"

"Well—" Havoc blinked, then admitted, "No, but… I figured maybe he'd take them to some shady places I never go to."

Roy cut in coolly. "Please, Havoc, I have more class than that."

"Can't blame me," Havoc said defensively. "You _used_ to be known as a manwhore, you know. What happened to that?"

Roy chose to ignore him (again) and go back to work. Ed's smirk was visible in the corner of his eye. His eyebrow twitched in irritation.

"Things change," Ed said cheerfully as if he wasn't perfectly aware that Roy was seconds away from chucking a pen at his head.

Havoc snorted. "Right. Sorry, but I find it hard to believe Mr. Womanizer here has changed his ways. You know what, I think he's doing it in secret and just doesn't want to tell because he knows I want a girlfriend."

Roy rolled his eyes for the nth time. It was too hard and annoying to focus on his paperwork, so he just stopped trying. He tossed his pen onto his desk, giving Havoc an exasperated look. "Jean, get off your damn high-horse. Do you honestly think I care enough to keep you from getting a date? Here." He opened a desk drawer and shuffled around for a moment. Finally, he pulled out a little black book and tossed it Havoc's way. "Take it and shut up."

"What is it?" Havoc asked, snatching it mid-air.

"It's a book with the numbers of all the girls I used to date. I think there are a couple unused condoms in the back too. You can have it," he muttered. "It's not like I use it anymore." Then he smirked. "Don't know if the condoms will fit, though. I think you might need to go and get a smaller size."

Havoc flushed and shot a glare at him. "I think you can keep your damn condoms," he said sourly, tossing them back. Roy shrugged and pocketed them, still wearing a faint smirk. Havoc let out a low whistle as he flipped through the book. "Wow, boss. This isn't like you. Giving away your little black book?"

"Getting rid of it," Roy corrected. He linked his fingers together and set his chin on them. "I don't want it," he sighed. "Consider it your early Christmas gift. And birthday gift. And… everything gift."

"'Cause you're too cheap to buy him something?" Ed piped up.

"Pretty much," Roy replied dryly. Ed snorted at him.

"Figured."

"Damn," Havoc said appreciatively. "There are a _lot_ of numbers in here."

"Yeah, well, I had commitment issues, alright?" Roy said, somewhat defensively. "Just shut up and take it and go away. I have a headache."

Havoc was grinning widely. "Thanks, boss. Jeez, you're in a mood today, aren't you?"

"What gave it away?" Roy said sarcastically. God, he would _kill_ for a painkiller right now.

Havoc chuckled, oblivious to Roy's irritation and exhaustion and general crankiness. "Having withdrawals?"

"What?" Roy said testily.

"When was the last time you got laid? Sheeesh."

He wasn't sure why this made him snap, but it did. Finally at wit's end, Roy looked up at him and with a complete straight face, deadpanned, "About an hour ago, if you must know. Now leave."

On the other side of the room, Ed promptly started choking on his spit. Havoc looked confused for a long, long moment, and stared between the irate colonel and choking major with furrowed eyebrows. "You were in here working with Ed an hour ago, weren't you?" he said slowly.

"Fuck you, Mustang!" Ed coughed out before Roy could answer. "I almost fucking just died! Death by choking on my own saliva is not how I fucking want to go!"

"Sorry, I couldn't hear you over that shit-eating grin you've had on for the past fifteen minutes," Roy shot back. "I have no idea how Havoc failed to see you fucking me with your eyes, but we've already accomplished that he's fucking blind to reality. Now shut _up_ and write that damned report."

"It's not my fault I have to rewrite it!" Ed griped. "Who was the one who initiated it?"

"You were giving me this _look_—"

"You were the one who made the first move, shit-head!"

"Well I didn't see you complaining."

"I was too busy having a tongue shoved down my throat to complain!"

"As _if_. You could have your tongue cut _out_ and still bitch."

"Oh, you— you need to shut the fuck up sometimes, you know?"

Somewhere along the lines of this argument, it clicked and Havoc's eyes widened hugely in realization. "Holy shit," he sputtered, backing up. "Wait a second. Waaaaait just one damn second here." He gawked between them in disbelief. "You aren't— you guys— you…" His mouth was so wide that his jaw probably would have fallen off if it wasn't connected to his face. "You can't tell me…" He drifted off, then tried again, his face bright red. "An hour ago… you guys were in here working on the report… right?"

"Working on the report?" Ed snorted. "More like fucking on it. Why the hell do you think I have to rewrite it?"

Havoc's eyes were saucers. "So that's why you haven't gone on a date," he said hollowly. Roy raised his eyebrows and muttered something about him being slow, but Havoc was too shocked to notice or care.

"I guess Mr. Womanizer isn't as straight as you thought," Ed said smugly. "I told you things change."

Havoc just gaped. "Damn, Mustang… I mean… you know Ed isn't a girl, right? I mean, he's kinda pretty… and little, but—"

"Hey!" Ed interrupted angrily. "Watch it!"

"I'm pretty damn sure I know Ed is male, Havoc," Roy muttered warily.

"Right," Havoc squeaked. "I mean— if you guys were doing— _that_…"

"Ughh." Roy groaned. He wanted to jump out the window.

Havoc finally swallowed. "Okay," he said slowly. "I'm over the fact that you're gay for Fullmetal— well, maybe not _over it_, but… jesus, just how did this even happen? I don't care, really, but I never expected it and—"

"Jean," said Roy flatly. "Shut up."

"Okay," Havoc said quickly, nodding. "Okay… just, wow, I can't even… How the hell did you manage to tame _Fullmetal?_" he finally asked, eyes wide.

"_Tame me_? Please." Ed crossed his arms and his lips curled up into the smirk again. "I tamed _him_."

"_What_?"

"Edward," Roy said through grit teeth, "I swear, shut up and finish that report or I will—"

"What? Fire me?" Ed's voice was honey-coated poison. "Then who'd suck you off under the desk while you're supposed to be doing paperwork, hm?" His voice dropped an octave until it was rich and thick like melted chocolate, a seductive tone no fifteen-year-old should have perfected. "Who'd pin you to your chair and ride you _nice and slow_ until you're trying not to scream and can't even think about the unlocked door anymore?" Roy's cheeks flushed slightly and he all of a sudden felt much too warm. Ed's smirk widened until it was a slightly insane grin and he put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his chair. "Like hell you'd fire me."

"Holy shit," Havoc whispered, his complexion reminiscent of that of a tomato. "You two are kinky fuckers."

"I hate you, Ed," Roy said faintly. His cheeks were burning. Ed grinned and blew him a kiss.

"No, you fucking love me, admit it."

"Ugh…"

"How is it that Ed wears the pants?" Havoc said weakly.

"Good question..."

Ed grinned wider and tapped his pen against his bottom lip. "I told you, Havoc. I tamed the Mustang."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Mm Ed, why you so sassy**

**Man, I'm exhausted. Time for bed. I need to stop staying up late ;A;**

**Sorry if this one sucked I'm tired and meh I don't really care at the moment**


	18. Pocket Full of Sunshine

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Guys I drew Roy Mustang in short shorts and lacy panties. Don't ask. But I'm drawing Kanda Yuu next. *rolls around in sexy half-naked animated men* If anyone wants to see just PM me and I'll like email it or something haha I'm not putting it on my dA no nope my dad goes on there**

**Also if anyone PMd me I'm not ignoring you, the stupid page won't load for some reason...**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Pocket Full of Sunshine**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Sometimes Ed found himself doing really odd things that he was sure would cause his death by mortification if witnessed by anyone. They happened randomly— like the time he'd spontaneously decided to throw buns at Roy's head from the roof of his house of the other time he'd followed the man around making weird elephant sounds just to piss him off. He didn't really know why he did these things but he supposed he just got weird when he was bored.

Today, for example, he was parading around Roy's empty house in nothing but one of the colonel's white shirts, his hair up in a messy bun and the radio cranked up to its loudest. He didn't have a job at the moment, so he got bored easily. It was raining, Roy was at work, Al was with Winry and Sciezska, doing whatever those three did together (probably nerd out and talk about science things, Ed thought), so he had nothing better to do than dance around half-naked with the duster and brooms acting as his dance partners. He realized he probably looked like a complete idiot but he didn't care, really, because at least it was amusing him. He did close the curtains, though. Didn't need anyone looking in and getting an eyeful of him and all of his boogy-ing glory.

Singing loudly with the song, he twirled around and flicked the duster along the top of the stove's light. Roy really had to freaking start cleaning more often or hire a maid or something because his house was _dus-tyy._ He was so lucky he had a clean-freak freeloading there or else he'd probably be buried underneath paperwork and clutter and dust within a week.

He coughed and sneezed as a puff of dust came flying out of the duster as he swirled it around like a whip and hastily stopped because he decided that flinging around a dusty ball of fluff was a really bad idea, since he was trying to be a good domestic husband and clean or some shit like that.

Satisfied with dusting the kitchen, he skipped over to the adjoined living room, sliding on the hardwood floor and ending with a dramatic hair flip and a sassy hip roll that he was fairly positive made him look like a porn star. Or a complete moron, but whatever. Maybe he shouldn't have drank the rest of Roy's coffee and then made another pot and the drank that one too, with two chocolate donuts to boot. The sugar and caffeine were really getting to him and he was practically buzzing in senseless excitement. And also he was being a dork but he graciously ignored this and continued on being a dork because there was no one around to see him anyway.

He tossed aside the duster and grabbed the broom and twirled it around as he swept, all but screeching along with the song. "I got a pocket, got a pocket full of sunshine, I gotta love and I know that it's all mine!" Then he tripped over the broom and nearly landed face-first on the hardwood and decided that maybe it would be safer if he didn't spin.

He wondered what Roy would say when he came home to a clean house. Maybe he'd become so overwhelmed with emotion that he'd pick Ed up right there and kiss him silly. Well, probably not. Ed couldn't really picture that happening unless Roy was in a really good mood, which he wouldn't be coming home from work. He'd probably just be shocked that Ed had actually done something useful instead of sitting here and wearing down the spines of his books and using up his food supply like he usually did.

Humming with the song, Ed thought idly that maybe he'd make dinner, too. He bent to sweet the pile of dust into the tray and got a bit peeved at that stupid line of dirt that never fucking wanted to go in to the tray and so he just kicked it under the carpet beneath the coffee table and went on singing. Yes, dinner would be nice. He was feeling particularly generous (and to be honest, a bit horny, so if he made Roy a nice dinner he'd be in a better mood which meant it would be absolutely effortless on Ed's part to get him in bed) so maybe he'd make some kind of pasta. Or maybe rice, because he knew Roy loved it. His stomach started rumbling at the thought of food, but he ignored it in favor of making a second attempt at sweeping up that line of dust.

"Blahh, fuck you too," he grumbled at it when it refused to enter the tray. He kicked it under the carpet again and hopped up, sliding (and nearly tripping) over to the radio to change stations because this song kind of annoyed him. Satisfied with his newest choice, he darted over to the kitchen cabinets and grabbed the spray bottle of soapy water and some paper towel. The windows were all full of finger prints and that kind of pissed him off. Once he got on a roll there was no stopping him and the filthy windows were no exception.

"Tonight I'm gonna come alive, make you forget about your nine to five, are you ready for yo— ow, fuck," he muttered as he got the spray in a cut on his finger, "—the night I'm dreeeessin' up for you~" He liked this song (as girly as that made him) because it gave him all sorts of ideas. Maybe he'd suggest some sort of role-playing in the bedroom next time. He snorted to himself as he caught sight of his flush in the reflection on the window and shoved that thought out of his head for the moment.

He climbed onto the counter and sat there cross-legged so he could reach the window above the sink without stretching _too_ much, humming again. The counter was kind of cold on his butt, and it annoyed him a bit, but he didn't pay it much mind because he soon found something else to annoy him even more— a damned little speck that refused to come off of the window no matter how hard he scrubbed. His eyebrows furrowing, he sprayed viciously at it. "You fuckin' think this is a game, you little shit?" he growled, scrubbing with renewed determination and even sticking his tongue out in concentration. "Fuck yooooouuuu."

He heard a snort and jolted, whirling around and nearly slipping right off of the counter. He yelped and caught himself by grabbing the edge of the sink, suddenly painfully aware of the smirking man barely five feet away. A hot flush spread up his cheeks and neck and he was so embarrassed that for a moment all he could do was gawk. Then he frowned and mustered up as much dignity as an eighteen-year-old man could have whilst wearing a loose shirt with nothing underneath and singing Katy Perry and dancing around like a stripper.

He walked over and turned down the radio, looking at Roy indignantly and sticking his nose up to show how much he totally wasn't being a loser. Roy was fighting a losing battle and trying not to burst out laughing. He eventually lost and went, "Pffffft" to which Ed glared and whipped the paper towel he'd been holding at his laughing face.

"Is this what you do when I'm at work?" Roy snickered, shoulders shaking with the effort of keeping in outrageous laughing.

Ed jutted his jaw out, a flush flaring across his nose and cheeks. "Shut the fuck up. I rearranged the kitchen and I know where the knives are and you don't so I'd stop laughing if you're fond of your manhood."

"I'm trembling in terror," Roy said sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. He grinned and tossed his keys on the counter, about to say something when Ed stormed past him and grabbed the keys and stomped towards the front door.

"I fucking just cleaned there!" he yelled. "There are rules now, your keys go on this hook and if you put them on the counter you owe me a tray of brownies every time!" Huffing, he came to a stop at the edge of the counter, glaring and bright red. "How long were you there?"

"Since you did that burlesque-worthy hip roll in the living room," Roy said, very amused. "I have to say, I had no idea you could dance."

Ed was absolutely mortified. "Oh my god, you fuckin' saw that?" Then something else occurred to him and he screeched, "That was like twenty minutes ago!"

"Yes, twenty minutes spent in agony as I tried not to piss myself laughing."

Ed stared at him with his mouth open, horrified. "Can you kill me?"

"No way. Then I'd never be able to see you dance like that again. I especially liked the part where you nearly face-planted the floor. That was a nice touch."

"Shut up!" Ed squawked indignantly, thwacking Roy's chest with his hand. "Why the hell are you home so early anyway?"

"I finished my paperwork early." Roy grinned. "I didn't expect to come home to this, though. Maybe you should do it more often." He raised his eyebrows at Ed's furious blush. "It may or may not give me more incentive to work harder."

"Like hell I'm ever gonna dance for you like that!"

Roy's grin widened and he tugged lightly at the bottom of the loose shirt was wearing. "Can I just say that you look fantastic in my shirt?"

"No you may not, now get the fuck outta here, I'm not done cleaning." But Roy didn't leave and just started walking closer and so Ed stumbled back and cried, "I said fuck off! There's a fucking spot on that window that is going to haunt me 'till the end of time and—"

"You really do make an excellent wife," Roy mused. Ed threw the spray bottle at him this time.

"I'm not a woman! God, go upstairs and change and leave me with my cleaning." He made a shooing motion. "Begone! Shoo! I'm busy!"

"Fine, but only if you promise that when I come back downstairs you'll be dancing and singing like you were earlier. That was really cute."

Ed's cheeks flared. "Hell no! I told you I ain't dancing for you, that's creepy!"

"Too bad then, I'm not leaving."

"You—ugh, just fuckin'… fine." Ed put his hands in Roy's back and shoved him towards the staircase. "I hope you know I'm not making you dinner now, you bastard."

"Whaaat? What did I do?"

"You called me your wife and cute and those are two things you don't call a man."

"What were you going to make for dinner?" Roy sounded hopeful.

"Pasta, you shit."

"Like spaghetti?"

"Yeah, like spaghetti."

"Aw, come on! You can't just say that then not make it, Ed…"

"Either I fucking dance like a moron for your sadistic and creepy self or I make you dinner, now choose."

"I vote you dance like a moron while I make dinner."

"Only if you make brownies too."

"What? That wasn't part of the deal."

"It is now."

"Fine," Roy sighed. He put a hand on the rail and began walking up the stairs. He glanced back at Ed's glaring face and grinned, nodding towards the kitchen with malicious intent in his eyes. "The music's kinda low for dancing, don't you think? Might want to turn it up."

Ed just scowled at him. "Fuck you."

"You'd better be dancing by the time I get back down."

Ed flipped both of his middle fingers up and swayed his hips, dancing backwards to the radio and mouthing 'fuck you' the whole way. Snorting, Roy called, "Think of the brownies, Ed."

Ed snarled. "Think of the how about you _shut the fuck up_ and go change so you can make me some goddamned food."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I had to clean my house yesterday and well I thought of this because this is basically me when I'm home alone**


	19. Switch 2

**KissMeDeadkyT-T: ****xD I'm glad you all liked the last one, I literally wrote basically what I did the other day so I guess it's great that my stupidity entertains you guys… but hell, you guys have a point, who DOESN'T do stupid shit like this when they're cleaning?!**

**Anywayyy, remember a million chapters ago when I wrote that one where Ed and Al switched bodies? Hueuhuhe I made a part 2 finally**

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**Title: Switch 2 (Continuation of chapter 10)**

**Rating: K – T**

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Roy was, admittedly, a bit nervous. Doing alchemy like this wasn't his strong suit— he rarely, if ever, used any other type than fire alchemy. He was trying not to be so anxious, but he was absolutely terrified he'd mess it up and be responsible for the brothers losing their bodies again. What if he screwed up, and the soul transfer didn't complete? What if they both became empty shells because of him? They'd finally gotten back to normal— he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he took that away. Swallowing, he looked up from the cold floor and met two pairs of gold eyes, one bright and vibrant and the other dark and honey-coloured. Both Elrics were looking at him with faces that could only be described as desperate.

Roy finally let out a shaky breath, leaning back on his heels. He'd been kneeling in front of the circle for some time now, trying to mentally prep himself for what he was about to do and the possible consequences. "I can't do this," he breathed.

Ed, in Al's body, crawled closer to him. Roy felt the warm touch of a hand on his shoulder, but it wasn't quite right— probably because Al's hands were a bit bigger than Ed's, and they had a different feel. Nonetheless, he looked forward into Al's light, honey-colored eyes, which shone with the brazen headstrongness of Edward.

"Yes you can," Ed told him firmly. "Come on, Roy, please don't chicken out now. I really—" He flicked his eyes to his own body, where Al sat looking at the ground, giving them as much privacy as he could. Ed swallowed and lowered his voice a bit. "I really want to be able to touch you again without it being weird."

"I know. I do too." Roy's hands clenched into fists. "I just don't think I can do it. I'll mess up." He looked to Al. "Maybe you should do it, Alphonse. This is Xingese alchemy— I have no idea about that, but you've been studying it, right?" He looked won at the circle that had taken him the past two weeks to decipher. It was supposedly a soul-swapping circle, and while the notes claimed it to be safe— and he had double and triple checked that he'd translated them properly— he was still just a bit leery to activate it. With Edward and Alphonse sitting in the middle of it, it felt eerily like human transmutation— which he really, really wasn't comfortable with.

"What if I screw up and you two are stuck in each other forever?" he demanded. He didn't usually let his worries show, but this was a huge risk. "Or worse— a random object?" He swept his arm across his basement. There were plenty of things conveniently lying around to accidentally attach a soul to or something. "I can't do it," he repeated, his voice taking on a tinge of hysteria. "I don't want to responsible for messing your bodies up when you just got them back."

"Roy," Ed interrupted before the rambling could go any further. He warily ran a hand through Al's short, dirty-blond hair. "Al is in my body— he can't do it because I can't do alchemy anymore. I didn't read the notes and I have no idea how. I guess in Al's body I can still use alchemy," he admitted, looking longingly down at his hands, "but I still didn't read the notes. What if there's something in there that you need to know to do this? That's why we need you to do it." He bit his lip. "Please. You're the only one I trust enough besides Al to do this."

"I agree," Al added softly. "We trust you. You won't mess up." He smiled, a quirk of the lips so familiar to Ed's usual grin that Roy's heart ached. He hadn't seen that grin for two weeks now. He set his jaw, shoving his worries firmly into the back of his mind.

"Fine," he said, relenting this easily only because of the sincerity in their eyes and the sheer need to have Ed in his own body so he could _touch_ him again. He couldn't bring himself to even hug Ed when he was in Alphonse's body— it just didn't feel right. Plus, Al would probably have an emotional breakdown. He poised his hands over the array, swallowing down the last of his anxiety. He met their eyes, pulling up that cool façade he wore all the time to mask the gnawing worry in his gut that refused to go away. "Ready?"

The brothers looked a bit nervous, but their excitement clearly overpowered it. Roy felt a bit better— they really did trust him.

"Ready," Al said with a smile.

"Just do it," Ed sighed, waving his hand carelessly. "I'm tired of this."

And so Roy's palms touched the circle. Immediately, a bright white light filled up the room, casting long shadows. Heart pounding nervously, Roy quickly checked to make sure there were no tiny black hands reaching up from the floor or a giant eye below them— both of which still haunted him from his experience with them on the Promise Day. Relieved there was nothing suspicious, he squinted past the light and took a look at Ed and Al.

He was met with an eerie sight; both were staring forward, eyes dull and mouths slack. They looked lifeless. Dead. Roy's heart jumped up into his throat and he panicked.

"Oh god," he whispered, mouth dry. Did he _kill_ them? Had he deciphered the notes wrong? Were their souls never going to be able to return to their respective bodies? Was—

Then, in the middle of the circle, there were two sharp gasps. Both Ed and Al jolted, eyes flying wide open. Surprised, Roy's hands automatically retreated, but he heard Ed cry out, "Not yet!" and felt them be roughly jerked back down onto the array. The light flared up again, brighter this time, and he heard Ed yell something to Al. He couldn't quite focus on it— a sudden feeling of weightlessness and then heaviness in his abdomen made him want to throw up, and then his vision started to blur. He suddenly felt drained, completely exhausted and beat, and saw Ed's body fall limp too. The last thing he saw before he passed out was Al's hysteric face and Ed's blond hair flying everywhere as they both collapsed to the floor.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Sometime later, Roy woke up. Groaning miserably— he felt as though someone had just turned him inside out and beaten his naked insides with a spiked club— he blinked open his eyes. That was a mistake— the room was too bright and he cringed, squeezing them shut again. If he hadn't been so busy trying to make the painful fireworks on his eyelids disappear, he might have noticed that what he _had_ seen before he'd shut his eyes again had been clearer than he was used to. Since losing his sight and getting it back, it had never been quite as good as it once was… but it was now.

Nonetheless, he was too distracted to notice at the moment. He heard a flurry of movement— a couple sets of footsteps running towards him, and two voices speaking sharply— and then there was a cool palm on his forehead.

"_Roy? Roy!"_

_What…?_ he thought blankly. _That voice…_ Now, wait a second. His eyes flew open, a dark feeling of utter doom settling in his stomach. What he saw only confirmed his suspicions.

Alphonse was standing there, looking anxious, and next to him was… Roy? Roy gaped. "What the hell?" Then, he slowly added, "…Edward?"

Roy— Ed— gosh, could this whole thing get any more_ confusing_— anyway, Ed-Roy grimaced. "Yep."

Sure enough, when Roy glanced down at himself, he was wearing Ed's black pants and white button-up shirt. His hands shot to the left leg, just to make sure— yep, that was metal. He let his fingers linger a bit longer than necessary— just confirming it, he told himself, not feeling Edward up with his own hands, he told himself— and then stared up into his own eyes. They held that unmistakeable Edward scowl.

"What the hell happened?" he asked as calmly as he could. It wasn't very. Actually, he was pretty much screeching. Ed grimaced again.

"I think you stopped the array too soon," he said warily. "I saw you panic, and I tried to stop you but… well." He patted at his— Roy's— body. "Now I'm in you and you're in me." He sighed. "What a fine mess this is."

"Why?" Roy asked blankly. Inside, he was having a bit of an emotional breakdown— he could touch Ed again, but now it was just masturbation and that just plain sucked. He supposed he could touch Ed in his body, but… well, that thought was so weird that Roy immediately kicked it in the arse and booted it out of his brain. "I mean— it was successful, wasn't it? I saw you both regain consciousness—"

"I was in my own body," Ed admitted. "For a second, at least. But it didn't feel… complete." He glanced at Al. "You know?"

Al nodded. "It felt like it wasn't finished. I wasn't all there. I don't really know how else to explain it," he admitted.

"Right," Ed nodded in confirmation. "I saw you take your hands off the array and I sort of freaked out— I thought if it wasn't completed that my body would reject me or something, and so I grabbed you… I think that was the mistake. As soon as I touched you all my strength was just like _bye_ Ed you don't need me." Ed made a grim face. "This is my fault. I'm sorry."

Roy was somewhat taken aback. Ed didn't apologize very often. "Don't apologize," he muttered, running a hand down his face. "We know how to reverse it. The array is still there, right?"

"Um…" Al looked nervous. "Actually, about that… it got… destroyed. I don't know how. But we're going to have to draw a new one."

Roy remembered how it had taken him at least an entire day to draw the whole thing, and that was _with_ the knowledge fresh in his mind. Now, he was all disoriented and frazzled and— ugh, this was just fantastic.

"Okay," he sighed, falling back onto the bed. Which, he noted, was his own. He supposed Al wouldn't have had much trouble hauling him up the stairs, since he was considerably smaller now. He wondered for a moment how well he'd fared dragging an unconscious Ed (in Roy's heavier body) upstairs, but didn't dwell on it. "Damn," he said, stretching his arms and legs out in front of him. They were littered with scars and marks that he was very familiar with, but they seemed odd now— he was seeing them from the wrong perspective. "You really are short, Ed."

He looked up in time to see his own face—gosh, that was so _creepy_— scowling as Ed thwacked him across the back of the head. "Shut it," he glowered. "It's only a few inches. Don't be a drama queen." He sniffed indignantly.

Roy rolled his eyes and swung his legs off of the bed. He sat on the edge and looked between the brothers. "So what now?"

"Now," Al sighed, "we draw a new array. Do you still remember it?"

"Only a bit," Roy admitted. "I'm sure I'll be able to figure it out again if I look at the notes, though. But it'll take a while. We'll probably be stuck like this for another day or two."

Ed groaned. "Great. Ugh, this is creepy. I never thought I'd admit it, but I don't like being tall. It's not all it's cracked up to be. I feel creepy looking down on you guys." His currently black eyes were hostile and his face was twisted into a sour expression. "And we will now pretend I never said that."

Al shared a grin with Roy. "Wow," the younger Elric commented with a sly smile, "you finally admitted it, brother. Congratulations. Perhaps we should celebrate with some cake. I think I spotted some in the fridge earlier."

Roy looked at him exasperatedly. "You were snooping through my fridge? Damn, you really are related to Edward…"

"I told you guys to shut up," Ed groused. "Anyway, I'll take you up on that, Al. Cake sounds good."

"Is anyone going to ask me if they can eat my cake?" Roy asked, but was ignored by both brothers as they hurried out of his bedroom. He could hear the padded footsteps travel down the hall and then trample down the stairs and his own voice and Al's bickering about who would get the most cake. With a large sigh, he flopped backwards onto his bed and stared at the ceiling. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was in wonder at being able to see perfectly again, but his most prominent thought was that of this new mess he'd gotten himself into. His eyes fell on his messy desk, which was littered with papers and sticky notes that he'd been using to decipher and organize the coded information in the Xingese book. After a brief session of thinking, he decided he would take a look at them again and refresh his memory— but first, he needed to eat. He was hungry. Clearly being inside of Edward was going to be tougher than he thought.

Then his mind proceeded to take a dirty path and he had to mentally shake himself to avoid that.

He pushed himself up off the bed and flicked the light off on his way out of the room, before hurrying downstairs. He could hear Edward and Alphonse arguing over who got the end piece with the most icing and scowled because that was the piece he'd planned on eating. He quickened his pace.

Whether he was in his own body or not, he was going to have that damn piece of cake for himself.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Wow, this is like, fic-ception, because there is going to have to be a part 3 to this now. Well… I guess I'll get around to that eventually!**


	20. Bubbles

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I JUST GOT A FUCKING ROYED PHONE CASE, OH MY ACTUAL FUCKING GLOB I'M GOING TO HAVE TO DIE OF JOY NOW. AASDFSDJFNDSGNJFNGJEGNJN. IF YOU GUYS WANT ONE GO ON REDBUBBLE . COM (without spaces obviously) AND TYPE 'ROY MUSTANG AND EDWARD ELRIC' IN THE SEARCH BAR AND IT WILL FUCKING APPEAR OMG**

**Anyway sorry about that, I wanted to tell someone but nobody that I know cares. ;-; **

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**Title: Bubbles**

**Rating: T but only for language **

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"Can you come help me do the dishes?"

Roy let out a long groan, removing his arm from where it had been resting over his eyes to glare at Ed. The blond just scowled right back, looking expectant. "Come on," Roy muttered. "I just got home."

"You got home an hour ago, you lazy ass. Come fucking help me do the dishes."

"I did them the other day…"

"And _I_ did them yesterday. And Monday. And Saturday." Ed raised his eyebrows, crossing his arms. "The least you could do is _help_."

But Roy was tired and therefore felt like it was okay to be a bit whiny, since, after all, he'd just gotten home from a fifteen-hour shift. He was letting Ed stay at his house. Ed could at least show his gratitude by doing the dishes when Roy was too tired. Or lazy. Whichever. "Can we do them later?" he grumbled, putting his arm back over his eyes.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Mustang, you're already useless in the rain. Don't be useless at home too."

This got Roy's attention. Shooting Ed a narrow-eyed glare that promised much pain in the near future, he got up. "Fine, I'll help. But I'm really tired so I hope you know this is only because I love you and I'm not in the mood to argue."

Ed smirked. "Or it's just 'cause I hit a nerve."

"No, it's because I love you." Roy was adamant and gave Ed the same sort of stubborn glare the blond was always throwing at him. "Shut up and accept it."

Ed snickered under his breath. "Useless."

"I heard that, and I swear I will smother you with soap bubbles if you don't take it back."

"Pffft. Oh, yeah, I'm trembling in terror." Ed held a hand out and shook it dramatically. "See?"

"No, seriously." Roy scooped up a handful of the bubbles filling the sink and turned to Ed with a straight face, poised to throw the bubbles. "Run if you want to live, Edward."

Ed screeched and scrambled away as Roy began chasing him around with the bubbles. "You jerk! Put the bubbles back!"

"No way! Not until you surrender and admit I'm not useless!"

Ed circled ran out into the living room and took the other entrance into the kitchen, narrowly avoiding a handful of bubbles to the face as he yelped and hastily ducked under Roy's outstretched hand. Growling softly, with a mischievous grin on his face, he scrambled to his feet and darted over to the sink, grabbing two handfuls of bubbles and turning to Roy with an evil grin. Roy hesitated, his hand now dripping lightly with soapy water. Since he'd thrown the bubbles already, he was out of ammo, and Ed was standing in front of the supply looking like the devil himself.

"Alright," Roy said slowly, "so I might be a _little_ useless when it comes to getting wet…"

"A little?" Ed snickered.

"Okay, a lot," Roy frowned indignantly and held his hands up in the universal sign of surrender. "Fine, you win. Put the bubbles down and I'll help you with the dishes and we're even."

Ed's eyes glinted maliciously. "Aw, hell no." He inched forward, the bubbles in his hands shining innocently and evilly under the kitchen light. Roy looked a bit concerned. "This is war, Roy. Don't start something you can't finish."

Roy backed away. "I surrendered. You're going against the rules of war."

"Rules?" Ed snorted. "Bullshit." He pulled one arm back, ready to throw the bubbles, and grinned widely. "There are no rules in war."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Bubbles! :D**


	21. Excuses

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: GUYS I MADE ONE WITH HUGHES SEBFKJERFJKREF ILOVE HUGHES AAAHHHH ;A;**

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**Title: Excuses**

**Rating: T**

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Hughes skipped down the hallway cheerfully, ignoring the odd stares he'd get from other soldiers passing by as he excitedly whistled and danced his way to the familiar double doors that led to the familiar office where his best friend was no doubt prematurely greying over paperwork. In his hands were six small squares of paper— new photos of his beautiful little girl Elicia! She was wearing a cute little pink dress with mauve ribbons and pastel pink frills and rumples and she was so downright adorable that he could just eat her up like the plump little strawberry shortcake sweetie pie she was! He had no doubt in his mind that Roy could use a mood pick-up, and what better way than to show him pictures of his precious little niece?

Imaginary flowers and sparkles danced and bounced around his head as he threw open the door. "Roooyyyyy!"

He was met with five pairs of eyes, none of which actually belonged to the grouchy colonel he was looking for. Breda was in the middle of taking a bite from his sandwich, mouth open and waiting, Fuery was looking up from the radio he was working on, Havoc was doodling on the side of some paperwork, Falman was snoozing and Hawkeye was organizing piles of documents that had no doubt just recently been signed by Mustang if the wary look on her face meant anything. Hughes took another look at the staff, decided that they all looked like brain dead zombies, and whipped the pictures out with a flourish and a squealed, "Look at my little girl!"

"You showed us your daughter yesterday," Havoc remarked drily. "Has she changed?"

"Yes! She's gotten cuter~"

"Why yes… I suppose she has…" Fuery said weakly as Hughes jumped up on his desk and did a strange wiggly dance of joy.

"Isn't she the _sweetest_?"

"She's very cute," Hawkeye cut in smoothly, smiling a bit. "I'm sorry to interrupt, Hughes, but are you looking for the Colonel?"

"Huh? Oh, right!" Hughes stopped shoving his pictures in the staff's face and climbed off of Fuery's desk, brushing off his uniform. "I actually came here to show him these pictures!" He began twirling off towards the doors that led to Roy's private office. "Poor guy's probably drowning in his paperwork! He needs something to wake him up and what's better than his beautiful niece looking as cute as a button? Nothing I tell you, noootthing—!"

Breda muttered something like "I'm sure the Colonel is as awake as he'll ever be," under his breath, but Hawkeye smacked the back of his head and cut him off before Hughes noticed.

"With all due respect, Hughes, Colonel Mustang is very busy and—"

"Oh, calm down, Riza!" Hughes laughed carelessly, grinning toothily. "It'll just take a few minutes then he can go back to doing his paperwork!"

"Or doing Fullme—"

This time it was Havoc that slapped the back of Breda's head. The blond quickly got to his feet. "Hey, uh, actually— you know, he would really hate to be bothered right now, and—"

Hughes had his hand on the doorknob. He turned back to give them all a strange look. Breda looked grumpy about being smacked twice, but he was grinning, and it was an unsettling contrast to the look of panic on Havoc's face and the barely-restrained anxiety on Hawkeye's.

"You guys are acting all weird. Maybe you need to see more pictures of Elicia."

Fuery tittered. "Yes," he said slowly, looking between Hawkeye and Havoc with a very serious 'roll with it guys' look. "I think we do. Need to see more pictures of your daughter." He set down the wrench he was using on the radio and awkwardly approached Hughes. "She's so cute, gosh—"

Hughes proceeded to squeal and start rambling on about Elicia's preciousness. Fuery grinned and bore through it, nodding as Hughes demanded if she was the cutest little thing in the world or what, and Hawkeye and Havoc shared a look of relief.

After Edward had stormed in there a little while ago, gold eyes blazing with fury and hair practically crackling with anger, neither had any doubts that it would be extremely unsafe to open the door if they cared about keeping their memories unscathed. Hawkeye was fairly positive she hadn't heard the door lock, but she had ears nearly as sharp as her eyes and was also positive she'd heard the _sounds_ that usually came from that office whenever Ed went in pissed. He always went in looking ready for homicide and came out dazed and flushed and she had no doubts about what went on behind the thick wood doors. All she could do was turn her back and pretend not to hear— she knew it was inevitable every time, but still, she didn't really want to _hear_ it.

She realized with a start that Hughes was done ranting to Fuery, and as much as the little brunet and Havoc tried to delay him, Hughes was making a steady beeline for Roy's office. She hastily stepped in front of him, forced her face to remain neutral and not betray any of her thoughts, and forced a smile.

"May I see?"

"Oh, of course!"

As Hughes pointed out every detail and fangirled over his daughter, Hawkeye glanced to the shut doors. It had been nearly a half-hour and Fullmetal was still in there. Her eyebrow twitched. She was going to get payback for this sometime, whether Roy knew of the headache he was inadvertently giving her or not. She could only hope they'd be done soon, because Hughes could only be delayed for so long before he forged on like a train at full steam.

"Do you have any more pictures of her?" she asked with a bright smile. "In your office, perhaps?"

"Oh— well, yes, I do." Hughes' eyes sparkled excitedly. "You like looking at my daughter that much?" Then, before Hawkeye could respond, he howled, "Oh, of _course_ you do! She's _adorable_, who _wouldn't_ want to look at her cute little face?" Then he ran off, cackling madly, to get more pictures of Elicia. Hawkeye let out a long sigh of relief. He was occupied for a little longer, at least.

She turned to her co-workers with a wary look. Before she could speak her mind, Havoc rubbed at his face and spoke up grimly. "We have to talk to Mustang about his habits at work."

"I agree," Fuery said timidly, his cheeks a light pink. "It's getting too hard to find reasons why people can't visit him immediately. People are going to begin to suspect that something's up."

"People already are," Hawkeye murmured, her fine eyebrow twitching in irritation. "That's it. There's no avoiding it. We're talking to him and we're talking to him today. This is getting ridiculous."

"We'd better talk to Ed, too," Breda put in through a mouthful of sandwich. "We can't put this all on the Colonel. I've seen the brat in action, too. He's as bad as Mustang." When he got three wide-eyed stares, he hastily added, "I mean I've seen him seducing the Colonel, you perverts! I've never seen— _that_." When they kept staring at him, he sputtered, "Stop looking at me! Okay, fine! I walked in once, and now I can never look at them the same ever again! Damn, thanks for making me remember that."

Havoc snorted. "Well, I'm with Breda. I vote we sit them both down once they're uh… done… and give them a talking-to."

"Do you think it'll help?" Fuery asked in a flustered tone, pushing his glasses up. "Edward doesn't tend to listen to anyone, and the Colonel… well…"

"Don't worry." Hawkeye's voice was level and calm as she took her gun from its holster and set it gently on the table, a gleam in her eye. "We'll convince them."

"That should work," Breda muttered, and then they all went back to work, waiting with a tense air for either Hughes to come back or for Edward to come walking weird out of the Colonel's office. The sound of a door opening made their eyes snap up.

It turned out to be Ed. He poked his head out of Roy's office and his face turned dark red when he noticed four pairs of eyes locked onto him. He yelped and tried to retreat back into the office, but Havoc was there before he could close the door, grabbing Ed by under the arms and hauling him up and over his shoulder. Ed screeched and kicked at him, his fists hitting the bottom of his back with dull thuds, but Havoc ignored the feeble struggles and stomped into Mustang's office. He dumped Ed onto one of the couches, only feeling vaguely sorry when Ed made a gasping sound of pain as he was dropped directly on his ass, and finally looked up into the black eyes that were narrowed at him in possessive anger.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Roy asked, his voice deceptively calm. His uniform was a bit rumpled and his hair somewhat mussed up. Havoc jutted his chin out defiantly as the rest of Roy's staff filed in through the doors.

Ed was bright red and glaring to the side as Breda stopped directly beside him. "We're having an intervention," he said, casually taking a bite of his sandwich. He offered it to Ed. "Wanna bite?"

"No thanks," Ed ground out, shooting a nasty glare to each and every one of them and then a doubly evil one to Roy. "What the fuck is this all about?"

"Edward." Hawkeye's cool voice made him wince slightly. "Colonel." She looked between them. "This has got to stop."

"What?" Ed demanded, his face somehow defying the gods of blushing and turning even redder. "What's gotta stop? There's nothing going on, what the hell are you talking about, are you guys high or something because holy damn—"

"You know what I'm talking about," Hawkeye said calmly. Her claret eyes fell on Roy, who squirmed, looking faintly uncomfortable.

"I don't see why it's any of your business," the Colonel responded evenly, resting his chin on one palm. He glanced at Ed, who was still glowering next to Breda and shining an impressive red, and then back to his lieutenant.

"Oh seriously, sir, please don't." Havoc sounded quite sassy and even more snarky. "It's very _much_ our business, because _we_ are the ones who have to make up some bullshit excuse as to why no one can come into your office for extended periods of time. 'Oh, the Colonel is very busy with paperwork and doesn't wish to be interrupted' is getting a little old."

"That—"

"And trust me, people are starting to notice." That was Breda through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Kill me," Ed whispered from his spot on the couch as he curled up into a ball. No one paid much attention.

Hawkeye frowned. "Look… we don't care about whatever is going on between you two, but please, can you _not_ do it in your office?"

"I thought you didn't like to involve your personal life in your work, chief," Havoc sniped.

Roy looked speechless. Even he was blushing faintly by now. He cleared his throat, then slowly said, "It is my decision on how to punish Fullmet—"

Ed let out a short laugh. "_Punish_? Reconsider your choice of words, you piece of shit." Then he turned dark red again and growled, "I _told_ you we shouldn't—"

"Don't you dare try to pin this all on me." Roy sounded affronted. "This is just as much your fault as it is mine."

"Y-you— no, you're the one—"

"I can vouch for the Colonel," Breda said, raising a hand. "Yeah, Ed, I've seen you in action, don't try to blame Mustang for everything,"

Ed looked like he might die by mortification. He jumped to his feet and cried, "This is— this is so awkward, fuck, I'm leaving—"

"No, you're not," Havoc said, picking him up like a potato sack again and tossing him back onto the couch. "We aren't done."

Ed glowered again but remained silent, sitting there with his arms crossed and glaring venomous daggers at the floor. Hawkeye sighed. "To wrap it up, we just think that you should… refrain from having sexual relations at work." Ed nearly choked and Roy just looked slightly obstinate, but she went on serenely, "Just a few minutes ago, we had to endure copious amounts of squealing about Hughes' daughter so to stop him from walking in on you two."

"We weren't—"

"Oh, can it, boss," Havoc said with a snort. "I didn't miss that limp."

Ed's entire head flared bright red and he grimaced, slinking low in his seat. "Ugh…"

"Now, while Elicia is indeed a very cute child… well, the guy's a bit overbearing, you know? We do have work to do. And so do you. So. New rule." Breda straightened. "No sex at work. Get it? Got it?" He plopped back down and took another bite of his seemingly never-ending sandwich. "Good."

Roy finally let out a long, embarrassed groan and let his head fall forward onto his desk. "Fine," he grumbled. "No more sex at work."

Ed sat up quickly. "Wait— you mean not at all?"

"Not even a little," Havoc said.

"But— I mean, not that I care," Ed ground out. "'Cause I _don't_."

"You totally do," Roy said shrewdly, with a slight smirk.

"Well, so do you!" Ed snapped.

"Are we good here?" Hawkeye interrupted, raising her eyebrows.

"We're good," Ed and Roy muttered at the same time. She smiled.

"Good. I guess I don't need this then." She placed her gun back into its holster, ignoring the way Ed's eyes bugged out behind her. She bowed slightly. "May we leave?"

"Dismissed," Roy said warily, his forehead back on the desk.

The staff left and with the slam of the door came a final ringing silence. There was a terribly awkward feel to it, and Ed squirmed very uncomfortably on the couch as Roy sat there in humiliated misery. Finally, he muttered, "We should've seen this coming."

"Ugh…" Ed slid down onto the floor and lay there with his face squished on the hardwood. "I've never wanted to die so bad in my life. I can't feel my face anymore."

"We just got the sex talk from my subordinates," Roy said with a short, awkward laugh.

"I noticed," Ed muttered.

"…We'll have to be sneakier about it in the future."

Ed shot up and glared at him. "No way. We're never having sex here ever again."

"Let's be honest, Ed, that's not going to work out for us," Roy said flatly.

Ed flushed again and sighed. "Probably not…"

"So we'll just have to… be sneaky."

"Be sneaky about what?" The door slammed open and Hughes whooshed as a whirlwind of hearts and sparkles and joy and pictures of Elicia. Ed yelped in surprise and smacked his head on the table in front of the couch and Roy nearly had a heart attack. Placing a palm over his chest to calm his pounding heart, he started, "Nothing, Hughes—"

Then Hawkeye and Havoc stormed in. "Colonel!" Hawkeye barked. "Being sneaky is not an option! We meant it when we said nothing at all!"

"I was kidding—"

"No you weren't," Havoc said wryly. Hughes looked confusedly between them all— Hawkeye and Havoc, who were raging, Roy, who looked embarrassed again, and Ed, who was moaning in pain on the ground and trying not to die.

"Fine!" Roy finally cried, his patience at its end. "I promise! Now can you all get the hell out of my office?"

When Havoc and Hawkeye left, Hughes tittered there uncertainly for a moment. He glanced again at the blond on the ground who was dying of mortification and then back to Roy. The colonel was lying facedown on his desk, muttering dark things into its wooden surface. Hughes cleared his throat.

"I'm guessing it's not a good time to show you these pictures of Elicia, huh?"

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: WOW GUYS HOW DO I EVEN CONCLUSION LIKE WHAT-**


	22. Overheated

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: We're having a major heat wave in my town so I may or may not be trying to finish 1077545 oneshots that involve heat waves or hot temperatures or just general overheating and this is one of them.**

**Sorry for any spelling or grammar errors! I'm not feeling well today. It's super-hot out and I managed to overheat and today is a nightmare. ;A;**

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**Title: Overheated **

**Rating: T**

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Ed muttered dark things to himself as he stormed down the white barren halls of Central command. He'd just returned from a weeklong mission down South and was more irritable than usual due to the humid, boiling heat he'd been forced to operate under for the past few days. Even his hotel room had been something closer to a sauna than a hotel room— there hadn't passed a day that he could look out of the window because the glass was always fogged up with humidity. Needless to say, Edward had never been a big fan of hot weather, and he despised it doubly now that he had metal limbs attached to his body that made every extreme temperature exponentially worse.

The temperate climate of Central was a welcoming embrace. He'd never been quite so happy to see the never-ending streets lined with white buildings or so relieved to smell that familiar busy city scent that was always drifting down the roads in his life, and even as he'd sprinted out of the train station and nearly gotten hit by a speeding car, he'd remained in a good mood— for the most part. He'd even grinned and nodded back at the few people who'd stopped and recognized him.

As he was walking back to his and Alphonse's inn (where there would no doubt be air conditioning— he couldn't _wait_!), he'd suddenly remembered that he had to go and report in to his bastard commander "immediately upon arrival," in the words of the bastard commander himself. His mood had dropped right back down to the negatives and the scowl that had made itself a new home on his face returned with vengeance. He _had_ been counting on a nice, long, cold shower to wring out the humidity from his hair that he'd never quite been able to properly get out when he was down South, but no, of course not. Mustang _would_ be a dick and demand an immediate report.

He left his suitcase at the stairs and asked one of the bored-looking guards at the entrance to watch it. Then, setting his jaw and preparing himself for the verbal beat-down that was no doubt quickly approaching, he set off towards the familiar set of doors that led to the familiar office housing the latest source of Edward's migraines, or, more formally, Colonel Mustang.

"Yo," he greeted casually, throwing the door open. Without waiting for a response, he sauntered in and flopped gracelessly onto one of the couches in front of the Colonel's polished wooden desk as if he owned the place. He was expecting to be met with a pair of sharp, black eyes that would without a doubt be narrowed in disapproval at his unpremeditated behaviour. When there was no cold, "Get your feet off of my table, Fullmetal," or any calm, collected but somehow terribly frigid glares, Ed furrowed his brow and finally took a good look at his superior.

"Mustang?" he asked slowly upon seeing the man hunched over his paperwork, black hair strewn messily about the many papers covering the surface of his desk. There was no response. A bit irritated— after all, Mustang _knew_ what time he was supposed to be back, and he was the one who told him to come and report in immediately— he got to his feet and walked to the front of Roy's desk. He curiously poked at Roy's shoulder. "Hey, bastard. Are you dead?"

His only response was a drowsy murmur and a husked, "Mmmn" that made his cheeks heat up for some reason. He supposed it must just be from overheating for this past week— his body was just acting strange.

_So the bastard's asleep_, he thought. A wide grin spread across his face. This could be fun. He scampered around the desk and kneeled next to Mustang's sleeping body and began shuffling through the man's drawers. Roy shifted slightly and Ed jumped, prepared to straighten and defend himself, but Roy stayed asleep. Sighing to himself, Ed kneeled again and finally found what he was looking for; a thick black marker.

He got to his feet and nudged some of the signed papers aside to make room to sit. He gingerly moved one of Roy's arms away from his face— slowly and softly, so that he didn't wake him— and grinned wider, bringing the marker to his cheek. He drew a stupid looking smiley face, and as his fingers accidentally brushed against Mustang's skin, felt a warm feeling spread through him. He found himself staring at the delicate curve of Mustang's cheek and the thick, black lashes softly brushing defined cheekbones. His lips were parted slightly in sleep. Ed had the ridiculous thought that they looked very soft and fleetingly wondered how they would feel to kiss. Then he turned a ripe shade of red and forced those thoughts out of his mind because that was an absolutely _crazy_ thing to think of while sitting there with a marker poised over his superior's cheek. His superior who happened to be fourteen years older than him and who happened to be a _man_. And a bastard.

_Damn_, he thought to himself, feeling absolutely horrified at what his mind was conjuring up, _the heat _really _got to me if I'm thinking that he looks… kind of… beautiful. _

The thought was shocking enough that it pulled him out of the sort-of trance he was in. Gulping, he hastily got to his feet, glancing guiltily around the room as if he was suspicious that something other than the walls had been there to see everything. Just to make himself feel a little bit better— _not_ to get another look at Mustang's peacefully resting face, because it was completely _not_a nice sight, and it definitely didn't make him want to see the man outside of the office _ever_ because he was _one hundred percent not _attracted to him whatsoever, oh no— he hurriedly wrote COLONEL SHIT-HEAD in capital letters along the side of Roy's jaw and then tossed the marker back into the drawer.

As he was leaving, he had the ludicrous, brief urge to… certainly not to _kiss_ Mustang, because that was just absurd! Gate, he was _never_ going to let himself overheat ever again if it made him think weird stuff like this. He shook himself mentally and left as quickly and quietly as possible. He couldn't help but grin to himself as he imagined the man waking up and going on with his day unaware of the writing on his face and had to muffle a snicker.

With one final glance at the sleeping man on the desk, Ed shut the door behind him.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: It's okay, Ed, I overheated yesterday and today I found myself staring at a picture of pancakes and having something near sexual fantasies about it. It happens to the best of us. **


	23. Cheesy

KissMeDeadlyT-T: I have such a strong urge to write a fic where Ed is extremely dominant and I may or may not go through with it…

Warning guys, this ones pretty fluffy :) Also, I wrote this on my iPod, and we all know how autocorrect can be a huge pain in the ass, so if there are any stupid spelling mistakes, please point them out to me and I'll fix them.

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Title: Cheesy

Rating: T

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Roy had been looking at him for a while now. Ed fidgeted— it was getting hard to keep ignoring it like he had been and it was becoming plain uncomfortable. He sunk lower on the couch, trying to hide behind his novel, but he could still feel a heavy gaze on him and it made his cheeks heat up. The small humming in his stomach grew into a buzzing heat that settled in the depths of his tummy and made a light sweat break out over his entire body. He shifted uncomfortably again and risked a quick glance up— nope, Roy was still looking, eyes uncharacteristically soft and a small smile playing on his lips. Ed swallowed nervously. It would be unnerving any other time, but it was worse now because of— what they'd finally done last night.

He finally couldn't take it anymore. His face a shade not unlike that of a tomato, he blurted, "What are you looking at?"

The smile on Roy's face widened until it was something near a grin. "You," he said simply, resting his chin on his hand. Ed swallowed again— sitting there in the morning sun, Roy really looked like something out of a Xingese fairytale; messy black hair falling perfectly into glittering obsidian that slanted just ever so slightly at the sides, pale skin glowing softly in the soft light, lips curved into a lazy grin that sent small shudders down Ed's spine. He was so caught up in taking in small details— such as the bruises dotting just outside of the open collar that made his pulse quicken as he remembered how they'd gotten there— that he almost didn't catch the man's next words.

"I was just wondering to myself how it felt when you fell from heaven."

Ed snorted at the cheesy line, but blushed despite himself. As corny as it was, Roy looked sincere about it, and it made his heart flutter. Still, he was Edward Elric and had problems taking compliments, so he looked away and muttered, "The same as it felt when you crawled up from hell, I'm sure."

Roy grinned and didn't miss a beat. "If I'm a demon, and I've seduced an angel, does that mean you're fallen?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of telling me you've fallen for me? How unusually sweet of you."

Flushing again, Ed growled and tossed his novel at the man's laughing face. "You're an idiot."

Roy paid no attention and simply picked up the book and put it aside before thoughtfully going on, "Although… I suppose last night really let me know you've fallen for me, if the way you screamed my name in the throes of passion means anything."

"Shut up!" Ed snapped, jumping to his feet. A shoot of pain in his spine nearly made him fall but he managed to catch himself with only a slight stumble. "I didn't— I only screamed your name because—"

"Because you were losing your mind to pleasure and couldn't find the sanity to think of anything else. I understand." Roy's eyes sparkled with mirth as Ed stomped over (with a slight limp that annoyed him and made him embarrassed more than anything) and smacked him upside the head, his complexion akin to that of a ripe cherry. Chuckling slightly, Roy tugged the blond onto his lap, smiling widely when Ed made no resistance except to glare at him.

"I can't believe I fell for such a moron," Ed muttered, face coloring slight when Roy brushed his lips softly across his. A slow grin spread across the older's face.

"So you admit you fell for me."

"Of course I did, you fucking idiot." Ed huffed. "I wouldn't let just /anyone/ do… do what…" His face reddened completely and he hid his face in Roy's shoulder before finishing, "What you did last night." The words were all blurred together, like the sooner they left his mouth the better, and Roy let out another soft laugh. Ed's arms tightened warningly around his neck.

"Don't laugh at me," he grumbled.

"I can't help it. You're adorable."

Ed pulled back to give him a glare. "Adorable?"

"Would you prefer beautiful?"

"I'd prefer something that isn't for a damn girl!" Ed said, his voice indignant. His cheeks were flaming.

Roy pretended to think about it. Eyes sparkling again— and oh god, did Ed feel weak in the knees when Roy smiled— he said, "I can't think of anything except beautiful." He raised his eyebrows. "Maybe perfect."

"You're such a fucking /sap/," Ed groaned, hiding his face again.

Roy grinned and fingered a strand of loose blond hair. "And you fell for me."


	24. Overheated 2

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Woot part 2 to chapter 22 yay**

**In this drabble we get the pleasure of reading sexual tension flirting what a nice thing**

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**Title: Overheated part 2 (continuation of chapter 22)**

**Rating: T**

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The shrill ringing of his desk phone going off next to his ear tore him abruptly from his sleep. He jolted and jumped up, his heart skipping a beat and then pounding in disoriented surprise. After a quick glance around the room, he deduced that he was still at work— and he'd fallen asleep on top of his paperwork _again_. He grimaced. This was getting to be a problem. He knew the cause, too, and it pissed him off even more.

He arched his back and winced when it cracked and popped— yes, he really did need to start sleeping better. Maybe if his dreams weren't constantly invaded by a certain foul-mouthed hot-headed blond-haired kid (for whatever reason, Roy didn't want to think about it too much— it made him feel weird), he'd actually be able to get a good night's rest and wouldn't keep falling asleep at his desk. This was the third time this week, and it was only Wednesday.

He yawned. Blinking heavily, he pulled himself fully out of sleep and then realized with a curse that his phone was still ringing. He hastily picked it up, praying internally that it wasn't someone important. "Colonel Mustang." He scowled. His voice was scratchy and husky from sleep. He hoped it wasn't too noticeable over the phone.

After a brief conversation— it turned out to be Hughes— he hung up and raised his arms over his head to stretch, gritting his teeth against another yawn. With a sigh, he slumped back down and picked up his pen, casting tired eyes over the documents he still had to sign. His gaze stopped at the corner of his desk, where the paperwork was shoved aside, and he frowned; hadn't those been a bit more organized and closer to the edge before he'd dozed off? And one of his drawers was open a fraction, too. He kicked it shut and shrugged it off, figuring he must have imagined closing it or something. He _was_ pretty tired.

He started drifting off again in the middle of signing his name but quickly caught himself, growling in frustration under his breath. He could use a coffee. Maybe he'd take a break and go grab one. He then reminded himself that he'd just taken one (and fallen asleep, to boot) and convinced himself not to. He would just have to suck it up. Sighing again, he glanced at the clock. Still three hours to go. Damn, this week was going to be one of the worst ones ever. He was way too drained for this crap. He was even absently wishing that something exciting would happen so that he could leave his office because right now sitting at this desk was driving him up the wall even more than it usually did.

Resigned to the fact that his life sucked right now, he started signing again. After a little while— and a couple times where he'd start nodding off and then pinch himself to stop— his door quietly eased open. Hawkeye strolled in. At this point, Roy was slouched over his desk, his cheek squished on the surface as he grumbled to himself and half-assedly reviewed the documents. He glanced up at her when she stopped in front of his desk.

"Hey," he muttered, his voice still rough. He wasn't entirely awake yet. He doubted he would be for a few weeks. "I'm not done these yet."

"That's alright. I can come back later." Her response was as serene as ever, if not a bit concerned. Her claret eyes looked anxious. "Sir…"

She didn't even have to ask for him to know what she was thinking. "No, I'm not okay," he sighed, sitting back and letting his head tip onto the chair. He ran a hand down his face wearily. "I'm exhausted. I haven't been sleeping well lately." He purposely avoided telling her why; it disturbed him enough as it was, and he didn't want anyone else to worry about his possible insanity either. Because _honestly_. Having dreams about your co-worker was one thing, but having dreams about your sixteen-year old male subordinate, who also had an extreme attitude problem and seemed incapable of treating his commanders with respect, was another thing entirely.

Absolute silence was his only answer and for a horrible moment he thought that she could see right through him. He looked up to see her staring at him, her eyebrows raised and something like a repressed smile playing on her pink lips. "What?" he said nervously.

"You fell asleep again, didn't you?" Her voice was wry, albeit a little disapproving. Roy looked down at his papers. He didn't drool, did he? He wiped at his face to make sure.

"Maybe for a bit," he said defensively. "Like I said— I haven't gotten much sleep."

"Well," her eyes glittered, "I think you had a visitor while you were sleeping."

Roy glanced at the clock again and something clicked in the back of his mind. He jumped to his feet. "Fullmetal!" He groaned and put a hand to his face, rubbing at his temples warily. "Great. He was supposed to stop by a while ago, did you see him? Why the hell didn't he wake me up?" He grumbled the last part under his breath. Ed was such a brat sometimes it drove him crazy.

"I didn't see him." Hawkeye seemed unable to fight the smile anymore and her lips quirked up. "But I think he saw _you_."

He didn't quite understand why she was so amused, and it unsettled him. "What are you talking about?" he asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes at her.

She picked up the stack of completed papers and smiled secretly again, turning her back. "I suggest you find a mirror, sir," she said over her shoulder.

"A mirror?" he repeated in wonder as she left his office. He furrowed his brow, watching the door swing shut. What the hell was that woman going on about? He got to his feet and walked out the same doors Hawkeye had just left from and was met with the wide eyes of his staff, who all immediately burst into laughter upon seeing him. He was beginning to get a bit ticked off now. What the hell was going on here?

"Shut up," he ordered, glaring at the lot of them. "Does anyone have a mirror? Something reflective?"

Still sniggering—and blatantly ignoring the colonel's scowl— Havoc shuffled through his desk. "Hold on, boss," he said, looking under some loose sheets, "I've got a metal lid, I think… hm. Oh, here it is." He pulled it out and handed it to Roy. "Good?"

"It'll do," Roy said curtly, snatching it from the blond's extended hand. He held it to his face and angled it until he could see his reflection. It was a bit blurry, but he could just barely make out his face, and… oh, for fuck's sake. His scowl deepened and he glared daggers into the reflection upon spotting doodles all over the right side of his face. The one that gave away the culprit was the obnoxiously large block letters that read COLONEL SHITHEAD on the side of his jaw.

"Fullmetal," he muttered darkly. Without another word, he tossed the metal lid back at Havoc (who was howling with laughter at this point) and resisted the strong urge to stomp as he walked back to his office and phone. He dialed a number and impatiently tapped his fingers as he waited for the other end to pick up. He caught his reflection in the window and scowled again, imagining countless ways of getting that little shit back for scribbling on his face.

He realized there was a pleasant female voice chirping in his ear. "—may I help you?"

Roy snapped himself out of it. "Yes," he said as patiently as he could. 'Could you connect me to the room Edward Elric is staying in?"

"One moment, please." A few dreadful moments of elevator music later, the phone clicked off hold.

"Hello?" It was Alphonse, his echoing, youthful voice easily recognizable even over the scratchy phone.

"Alphonse? It's Mustang."

"Oh! Hi, colonel, why are you calling?" Al paused. "Did Ed destroy something again?"

In the background, he heard Ed furiously whisper, "Tell him I'm not here!"

Roy's eyebrow twitched. As if. "You could say that," he said dryly, glancing at his reflection again. "Put him on, please. If he refuses to talk to me, I'd like to ask you to pin him down and put the phone to his ear."

"He's um, he's not here—"

"I heard him speaking," Roy sighed. "Alphonse, please give him the phone."

He heard Al let out a sigh and then mutter an apology. Seconds later, Ed snapped into his ear, "I don't fuckin' want to talk to you at work, why the hell would you think I want to talk to you here? Are we fucking dating? No, didn't think so. Piss off."

Roy raised an eyebrow. Ed sounded a bit more defensive than usual. Kind of freaked out, too. "Can you not?" he said flatly into the mouthpiece. "You know your filthy mouth is going to get you in trouble one day, don't you?"

"If that's true, then your filthy attitude will, bastard."

"Whatever," Roy said shortly. "Come down to my office now."

Ed's voice took on a nervous tint. "No way," he grumbled. "You missed our appointment. I was there. I'm not going back."

Roy smirked. So Ed admitted to being there— not that he doubted he was the culprit. No one else had the audacity to write on his face, or to call him Colonel Shithead. "Whether you want to or not, it's an order. We still need to discuss your mission."

"Hell no. I'll go tomorrow."

"Edward," Roy grit his teeth, running on the last of his patience. "You aren't off-duty until you report in and until then you still have to obey me. Get your ass to my office right now or so help me I will drag your carcass here myself."

"You—" Ed growled in frustration. "Damnit, fine. You're a shit-head, you know that, right?"

"Apparently, since it's written in marker on the side of my face."

Ed paused then. "…Ah."

"Don't think I didn't see it, you little shit."

"DON'T CALL ME LITTLE!" Ed screeched. "You totally deserve to have that written on your face! Damn it, _don't_ call me little, I swear—"

"Or what?" Roy taunted. "You'll marker me to death? I'm terribly frightened."

"You're a bastard," Ed hissed.

"And you're a brat." Roy sighed. "Get down here before I come get you, and trust me, it won't be pleasant."

"Make me!"

"I just said I would."

"Well— ugh! Fine! I'll come, you jerk!"

"You wrote on my face in marker, Edward," Roy said icily. "Who's the jerk in this situation?"

"I thought your face could use some decoration. It's kind of sucky."

Roy was going to pulverize this kid, he swore to god or whatever. "If it was legal to punch you, your ass would be mine," he growled.

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you," Ed snapped. Immediately following, an awkward silence ensued. Roy found himself flushing, his mind unable to grasp the fact that Ed had just said that, and he heard Ed swallow awkwardly on the other side of the line. Finally, the blond coughed, clearly embarrassed. "I didn't mean that."

"Right," Roy said dryly. "Is there something you'd like to tell me, Fullmetal?"

"No!" Ed said quickly. He sounded so flustered all Roy could do was snort. "Fuck you!"

"I bet you'd like that, wouldn't you," Roy said in a teasing mock of Ed's voice. He could practically feel the heat of Ed's entire face heating up and grinned widely. He supposed this could be a type of payback for the marker on his face.

"Shut the fuck up!" the blond screeched into the phone. "Gah, you're a pervert!"

"You started it."

"Stop— you asshole—" Ed struggled to find words for a moment, and finally ground out, "Fine, I'm coming. I'll see—"

"I bet you are," Roy interrupted coyly, his lips curving up wickedly. His mind was picturing Ed standing there staring in disbelief at the phone with a cherry-red face, and judging from the shriek that came through the phone, the image wasn't too far off.

"I fuckin' hate you!" Ed cried, slamming the phone down and leaving Roy grinning widely to a dial tone. He set the phone down and sunk smugly into his chair. Hawkeye peeked into the room.

"May I ask what that was all about?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing much. Just getting a bit of revenge."

She sighed and gave him a look. "You two are hopeless."

Roy smirked. "Completely."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I literally have no life and it takes me only like half an hour to write these drabbles so by the end of the summer it's probably going to be over a hundred chapters. ;-; **

**Don't forget to tell me if you guys have any ideas, I have a list of drabble things that I can add to!**


	25. Overheated 3

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Yeah, I literally wrote part 3 this quickly. I told you guys I have no life. **

**Oh uh… This one's rated M, and it's almost smut, and for once, I don't feel overly-concerned about to quality of it… but I do feel like it's a bit rushed. I guess we're our own worse critics, but I don't know. It's meant to be rushed but I feel like I made it _too_ rushed. I'm also pretty tired. I don't know. I'm just happy it didn't take me over a week to write this one. See? Tired. I'm rambling on about useless shit again. Sorry. :l**

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**Title: Overheated part 3 (continuation of last chapter)**

**Rating: M because grinding mm**

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Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to tease Ed like that.

It was awkward. God, it was so awkward. The air between them was so thick Roy was positive he could cut it with a knife and perhaps slather it onto a metaphorical slice of bread that he could maybe eat to distract himself from how absolutely uncomfortable and almost painful this was.

Ten minutes ago, the Fullmetal Alchemist had stomped into his office, given Roy the dirtiest look he'd ever seen, flopped down on the couch and started glaring at the floor as if this whole thing was its fault. Roy liked to take into consideration the fact that Ed's face nearly matched that horrendously flattering red coat he always wore and felt a bit better because it meant that he wasn't the only one who felt like it would be nice if the ground opened up and swallowed him. He'd tried a few times to start get Ed's attention and start talking about the mission—at this point, he could barely even remember what he needed to talk to him about— but each time Ed had remained silent and glared harder at the ground and slowly withdrew further and further into his coat until all Roy could really see was the top of his head and that stubborn flick of hair.

He didn't entirely regret poking fun at Ed, though, because he had to admit that Ed looked very nice with flushed cheeks. That then led him to remember some of his more interesting dreams, which led to him feeling uncomfortably warm and skittish, which led to a weak attempt at conversation, which finally led to that same terrible, awkward silence. The air was almost crackling between them and Roy could only describe the strange feeling as tension. Sexual tension, on his part. He shifted on his chair. He wished Ed would say something or would at least show that he knew Roy was there. The kid was stubborn, though. Worse than his lieutenant, even, and he'd never met anyone like her in his life. Besides Edward. He let out a silent sigh. Could this get any worse?

He rubbed at the side of his face, grimacing when his hand came away smeared with black. He'd almost forgotten about the doodles on his face in the midst of the awkwardness, but now he was even more irritated. And he was still tired. Stupid bratty Fullmetal— this was entirely his fault. For being too damn capricious and adorable and annoying and passionate and everything that pissed Roy off to no end but somehow drew him in at the same time. Frustrated, he wiped his cheek again. Maybe he could get the doodles off. He looked at the smudges on his hand. Maybe not.

He looked back up and saw Ed looking at him with those gold eyes and felt an involuntary heat curl in his stomach. Before he could make out the strange look in the gaze, Ed realized he had been caught and snapped his eyes away, flushing even darker. He crossed his arms across his chest. It was a hostile, defensive tic that Roy had learnt to expect from the boy by now and it only served to make him feel even more frustrated. Ed didn't even look _mad_. He looked conflicted and confused and defiant and uncomfortable and was masking it with anger, but Roy had been his superior long enough to see past that.

His thin patience finally ran out. "Okay, that's it." His words broke the silence. Ed didn't look up at him, but he did shrink further back into his coat, sullenly slumping low in the couch until his butt hung off the edge and he was left in a position that Roy couldn't imagine was very comfortable. Roy's exhaustion, irritation and sexual frustration all came together into a giant ball of exasperation and he decided shit had to be done or else they'd be sitting there forever in awkward silent misery.

Roy stood and walked around his desk and didn't stop until he was directly in front of Ed. He noticed how Ed quickly looked somewhere else and how his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. Another nervous tic. The blond's face— which, Roy observed, had matured a lot over the years— was red with tension and what Roy could only describe as uneasiness.

"Fullmetal," he spoke finally.

Ed said nothing and jutted his bottom lip out. His eyes were watering. Roy was sure it was from embarrassment. Ed tended to cry a lot when he got nervous. He kept his voice even. "Fullmetal," he repeated, "we need to talk."

Still no response.

"Edward."

Nothing.

"Oh for fuck's sake, Edward, look at me."

Ed's glare raised and he sent daggers into Roy's irritated black eyes. He said nothing, and it didn't seem like he planned on it.

Roy's eyebrow twitched. "Shrimp."

Growling, Ed shot out his automail leg and he kicked Roy in the knees, shoving him onto the couch opposite him before Roy could even register that he'd moved. "Don't," Ed growled, breathing heavily. His eyes glittered with something Roy in all of his experience reading others couldn't quite place. His hands were clutching Roy's uniform, his knees on either side of Roy's thighs. "Don't fucking call me that." His fingers tightened in the blue cloth. The warm humming that had been sitting in the pit of Roy's stomach heated up at their proximity and he felt a warm flush rise up his neck and cheeks. He swallowed, hating how breathless he felt. Ed was close. Very close. And if he came any closer, this was very likely to become even more awkward than it already was.

"You wrote Colonel Shithead on the side of my face," Roy finally said. He was quite proud of himself for keeping a steady voice when he could barely resist the urge to touch the warm body barely inches away from his own. He swallowed again when Ed's eyes narrowed until they were like glittering suns. "I was just returning the favour."

"You're an asshole," Ed breathed. His cheeks were flushed again, Roy noted, and the fingers clutching his collar trembled. "I can't believe you— you'd say that—"

Roy had a feeling Ed wasn't talking about calling him small. "You started it," he responded, flicking his tongue across his lips to wet them because they were feeling terribly dry right now. Ed's eyes zeroed in on it and his glare faltered for a moment. Roy didn't miss it. Raising an eyebrow, he did it again, going slower this time—he licked his lips deliberately, pulling in his bottom lip and letting it slide out wet. Ed exhaled and watched for another minute before quickly flicking his eyes away. He looked unnerved and his lips were pressed together in a firm line and if Roy wasn't mistaken, something was stirring inside those tight leather pants. He let a licentious smirk curve his lips.

"Well now," he murmured, sweeping his gaze up and down Ed's flustered body. His gaze lingered a bit longer than necessary around the toned thighs and stretched leather on his lap and when he finally looked back up he saw Ed staring at him with wide, unreadable eyes. He smirked a bit wider. "Looks like there_ is_ something you'd like to tell me, Edward."

"Stop that," Ed whispered, color erupting in his cheeks. His voice was very strained. He tightened his fingers in Roy's collar again, but his glare didn't make Roy anxious this time— because it wasn't even half-assed and it was completely destroyed by the fact that it was more pupil than anything. He raised a thin eyebrow.

"Stop what?"

"_That_." Ed looked desperate. Roy was almost surprised. It was unlike Ed to lose the will to fight so quickly. He'd never seen Ed look quite so torn. It was as if he was trying very, very hard to stay in control. "You— you're— making me weird, I don't—"

"What?" Roy leaned a bit closer— not that he really needed to because Ed was so close anyway— and ran his tongue over his lips again, almost close enough to wet Ed's too. "This?" One hand slid up Ed's toned thigh and brushed the soft inside teasingly. Ed gulped, looking incredibly nervous, his eyes glued to the hand that steadily travelled up his thigh. "Or _this_?" His fingers barely brushed over the bulge in Ed's pants, and that was it. Ed gasped sharply and he finally lost his grip on his control. His hands fell from clutching Roy's collar to clutching Roy's hair and before Roy knew it he was sprawled back on the couch with a very hot and very horny Edward Elric kissing him.

The dreams he'd had were nothing compared to this. It wasn't perfect or sweet or beautiful— there were teeth and battling tongues and slick noises and Ed kept making these wonderful sounds that made it nearly impossible for Roy to resist pinning him down and fucking his brains out right then and there and his heart was hammering and he could barely breathe and spit dribbled down his chin— but it was real, and it was hot, and Roy was just beginning to feel like he might explode when Ed pulled away, panting harshly. He opened his mouth to say something but never got the chance because Roy growled and pulled him back down for another kiss. Whatever Ed had meant to say turned into a heated moan as their tongues messily met again and Roy could honestly say he wished he'd started teasing Ed earlier because this was the hardest his heart had pounded in a long time.

"I hate you," Ed panted out against his lips, sliding mismatched hands down Roy's clothed chest and sending twin trails of pleasure down to his confined cock. Roy groaned and grabbed Ed's hips and pulled them into contact with his own. Ed gasped sharply and nearly lost his balance, barely catching himself in time. His hands gripped the couch at Roy's sides and his eyes squeezed shut. "Damn it," he scarcely managed to grind out, rolling his hips down erratically. His breathing was very short and Roy's was nearly as bad. "M-Mustang, I—_ahh_—"

"I hate you too," Roy finally breathed in response. He groaned quietly as Ed's short pants became more like breathless moans. One of his hands slid up Ed's back and tangled into his messy braid to pull him back down for another kiss, and the other fell just above Ed's tailbone to press their bodies closer together. Ed responded enthusiastically, grinding harder and faster against him, until it was all Roy could do not to let out the desperate moans he felt clawing up his throat.

It was happening so fast— barely ten minute ago they'd been ready to rip out each other's throats and now they were about to rip off each other's clothes. He didn't quite understand how it had happened, either, but hell, he wasn't complaining. He was, however, not unable to suddenly remember that they were at work and that if this didn't stop soon he was going to fuck Edward Elric in his office— which, despite how much his Id screamed at him that it didn't matter, was bad. The door wasn't locked and anyone could walk in anytime. With a shuddering exhale, he pulled away from the kiss, lingering a bit longer just to flick his tongue across Ed's mouth again because it had become terribly addictive. He forced himself to repress the lust pulsing through him— and to ignore the persistent throbbing in his pants— and stilled Ed's hips.

"Don't stop now," Ed gasped, trying in vain to rub against Roy again. "_Damn it_, Mustang, don't you dare—"

"We're at work," Roy said breathlessly. His mind finally cleared enough for him to realize the true weight of the situation. His office door wasn't even _closed_ properly. If they'd actually… or if someone had walked in… he let out a miserable groan and his head fell back. "Shit…"

Ed seemed to realize the circumstances too. Swallowing, he glanced back at the door— and immediately away, his entire face reddening. "Oh my god," he breathed, scrambling off of Roy. "Oh fuck, I didn't— I didn't mean to—"

Roy sat up, running his hands through his messed-up hair. Ed was still sputtering apologies. "It wasn't your fault," Roy muttered, interrupting Ed mid-stutter. He opened his eyes again and swept his gaze longingly over Ed's unkempt state, finally meeting the blond's wide eyes. "It was mine as much as it was yours."

"B-but—"

"Don't," Roy interrupted again. "And don't you dare tell me it was an accident, because it wasn't."

Ed flushed. "No," he muttered. "It wasn't."

"Didn't think so." Roy paused. "What… exactly _was_ it?"

"I don't know."

There was another tense silence, but this was different. This time, as they simply stared at each other, there was something else crackling in the air. It was so intense that he nearly forgot about the unlocked door and pulled him back down because that tingly feeling he'd had in the pit of his chest for Ed for a long time was warming and expanding and he wanted Edward so badly that it was almost impossible to ignore. Surprisingly, Ed was the one to break the silence.

"Is this… a one-time thing? A weird fluke? Because—" He stopped abruptly, turning red up to the roots of his hair. Swallowing hard, he tried again. "I-I mean— I don't know…about you, but I—"

There was a knock at the door. Cursing, Roy jumped to his feet and hurried to his desk. Ed looked like he might panic and looked around as if searching for a hiding spot, before finally flopping onto the couch they'd just been making out on. His face was beet red and Roy felt like he might look the same but there wasn't much they could do about that, so he cleared his throat and called, "Come in."

It was Hawkeye. "Have you finished your papers yet, sir?" Then she spotted Ed. "Oh, Fullmetal. You came back."

"Yeah," Ed said gruffly, shooting a half-assed glare the colonel's way. "Bastard wouldn't leave me alone. Claimed he needed some payback or something."

Hawkeye rolled her eyes heavenward. "I give up on you two," she murmured.

Roy snorted. "I don't know why you tried to begin with."

"Neither do I." She sighed. "I assume you haven't gotten any paperwork done?"

"That's my fault," Ed spoke up. "Sorry. We were discussing things." Roy raised an eyebrow at that, but luckily it went unnoticed by Hawkeye.

"Alright. Just have it done before you leave, and I mean that," she said, giving Roy a reproving look. The colonel sighed.

"I will."

"Good."

After she left (and after the door was firmly shut) Ed cleared his throat. "So… uh…"

"No."

Ed looked alarmed. "What?"

"It wasn't a one-time thing." Roy let his eyes soften. "Well— maybe like _that_ it was. I was quite shocked, to say the least." He chuckled when Ed looked away and muttered at him to shut up. "But I wouldn't object to it happening again. Actually… I'd like if it did."

A pleased flush spread up Ed's neck. "Fuck," he said under his breath. "I _really_ must have overheated."

"Excuse me?" Roy said, amused.

"Nothing," Ed said quickly. "I… I'd like it too." Then he turned dark red. "But I'm not that easy. If you wanna get in my pants you'd better fucking buy me dinner first."

"You made the first move," Roy pointed out, grinning widely. "But I'm not complaining. Fine." He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "Tell me when."

"When?"

"When you want it to happen."

"Um…"

"When you would like me to make you dinner, since we can't exactly go out in public. You can drop by my house and I'll cook you something." Roy shrugged. "I'm not great at making anything other than brownies, but I somehow doubt you'd object to that."

Ed gawked. "Are you seriously asking me out on a date?"

"It seems that way, yes."

"Oh." Ed's eyes were like saucers. "I… uh… I've never… been asked out before."

"I know," Roy said, cocking an amused eyebrow. Ed scowled.

"Shut up. I… it doesn't matter." Ed looked awkward. "You choose."

"Friday, then. Two days from now."

"And… you said you could make brownies?"

"That's hardly dinner," Roy said wryly. "But if you want, sure."

Ed's eyes lit up. "Can you put chocolate chips in them?"

Ed looked so excited, his eyes sparkling in a way Roy had never seen from him before— and he could honestly say it was more beautiful than seeing them glazed over and dark with lust. This was something else entirely, something that brought forth a different kind of warmth in his tummy. Roy couldn't help but grin. "Only if you promise never to write on my face again. And that next time we kiss, it won't be like that."

A wide grin spread across Ed's face. "You just might be able to twist my arm, Mustang."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Rushed smut whaaaat**

**Also brownies yay for headcanons**

**BTW: The Id is the part of your brain that, according to Freud, runs on the pleasure principle. Just thought I'd clarify in case some people didn't know. :o**

**I was going to go back and add more but then I decided this was getting long to be a drabble (not that my drabbles are really drabbles ever) and just decided to leave it. I hope it's okay like this. ;A; Maybe I'll fix it up and add more sometime but I think it's alright like this for now. *gets shot to prevent more ramblings***


	26. Noodles

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I'd like you all to know that I've been called the Goddess of RoyEd fanfiction a few times and that this makes me happier than it should. I really never thought I was that great at writing them but all of the nice compliments and reviews I've been given have told me otherwise and now I'm super confident about writing this pairing :D I mean… 300 REVIEWS? That's **_**insane**_**. I just— I can't even… **

**;-; Thanks guys *hugs everyone***

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**Title: Noodles**

**Rating: K+ - T for swears**

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"What's for dinner?"

Ed shot a thin-eyed glare. "Why the hell don't you cook for once?"

"Because you're the wife in our relationship, and following the unpopular stereotype, this means you should be doing the cooking." Roy said this all very calmly even though on the inside he was laughing manically because he knew full well how much Ed hated being called a girl.

As predicted, he received a hard punch to the shoulder and a fierce glare. "I'm not a fucking woman. I have a dick, in case you didn't notice."

"I did notice, actually, and I rather like that about you."

Ed rolled his eyes and scoffed. "Whatever. Fine." He got up off the couch and wandered into the kitchen and stopped to give Roy an expectant look from the other side of the counter. "What do you want me to make, you lazy ass?"

Roy grinned slyly. "You are completely my bitch."

"Shut the fuck up," Ed snapped, tossing a random spatula at him because why not. "I'm making dinner tonight but if you don't make it up to me with really awesome sex then I will not make you dinner for three months and you can wither away to nothing and I'll just go to Al's if I want to eat."

"I like the sound of that plan, actually," Roy mused, completely disregarding that last bit. "You make dinner and we have sex. We are that cheesy, married couple that people talk about, you know."

"No, we're not," Ed snorted over the sound of him shuffling around in the pantry. He emerged with a bag of dry pasta and a jar of red sauce that made Roy feel irrationally excited because he didn't like or love spaghetti, he fucking worshipped that shit. Ed was still talking but Roy was a bit distracted by the prospect of spaghetti so he wasn't quite sure he was hearing it completely. "We argue too much and our idea of romance is me kicking you in the shin in the morning when you won't let me get outta bed to take a piss." Ed paused when he noticed the dreamy look on Roy's face. "Oh, for fuck's sake, Roy."

Roy snapped out of a rather vivid image of himself rolling around in a giant vat of spaghetti with jolly laughter and Armstrong-esque sparkles in the air around him, and blinked at Ed. "What? Oh. Yeah, you're probably right."

Ed gave him a bemused look. "Don't tell me you were having fantasies about food again."

"I wasn't," Roy said defensively. "I'm tired, is all." He stood up and shuffled towards the kitchen, dragging his feet to try and make it look convincing. Ed's cocked eyebrow told him he wasn't buying it. "Are you making spaghetti?" Roy asked before Ed could point out that he was acting like an idiot.

Ed let it go and sighed, turning to face the stove. "Yeah," he sighed, tossing a pinch of salt and a bit of oil into the water he'd poured into a pot. He turned the element to high and glanced back at Roy with a wry look. "Try not to ogle the boiling water, yeah?"

"Oh, shut up." Roy inched closer. "Did I mention I love you?"

Ed snorted. "Not recently."

"Well, I do. I love you."

"Because I'm making you spaghetti?"

"Not entirely. But that's a large part of it, yes."

"You're an idiot." Ed rolled his eyes again and glared at the water as though giving it dirty looks would make it boil faster. Roy stood beside him, remaining silent, and Ed began fidgeting because, well, he wasn't quite sure what to say. When Roy got on the topic of food sometimes it was a bit scary. Everyone thought Ed had a thing for eating, but Ed always shot that down and told them to go spend a week living with Roy Mustang and see what true love for food meant. Especially pasta and chocolate. Ed honestly had no idea how Roy wasn't five hundred trillion pounds.

"Holy fuck," Ed finally said. "Can you not stand so close to me? I don't friggin' want to be close to you when you're having sexual fantasies about pasta."

"I wasn't thinking about that, actually," Roy said thoughtfully, forgetting to deny the part of about food-fueled erotic dreams. "Did you know, you kind of remind me of a spaghetti noodle. I do too."

"…What?"

"You remind—"

"I heard you," Ed interrupted curly. He gave him a good, long stare, then slowly asked, "Roy, be serious with me… are you high?"

"Of course not," Roy responded, sounding mildly annoyed.

"Well, how the hell do I remind you of a noodle?" The water was boiling now, so Ed dumped some of the dry noodles in. "Oh, wait," he sniped, aggressively stirring them. "Is this a small joke? Because noodles are small? Because you know, I'm at _least _five six now and that—"

"No, no," Roy interrupted with a grin. "You remember the first time we had sex?"

Ed turned dark red and looked down at the noodles like they led the answers to the universe. "We were drunk at Havoc's party," he muttered. "Yeah. Why?"

"And how you kept saying you were straight, and how I kept saying the same, but then we ended up on Havoc's bed."

Ed's flush had creeped down his neck now. "Yes," he hissed, glaring up at Roy. "What's your point?"

"Both of us kept arguing about our sexual orientations until I started fucking you for real." Roy chuckled at the memory and also at the flaming red blond standing beside him. "Then we sort of realized how completely fucked over we were."

"Yes," Ed growled, "I remember. So why the hell does this relate us to spaghetti noodles, you moron?"

"Just…" Roy picked up one of the dry noodles and waved it around a bit before poking at the cooked noodles Ed was stirring. "We were both straight until it got hot, you know?"

Ed stared at him for a long moment, and then finally let out a snort of laughter. "I can_not _believe you thought that through."

"It's true! Now look at us. You're hot and I'm hot and we're so far from straight that these wiggly noodles have nothing on us."

Ed had to take a moment because he was laughing too hard. "You— gate, you're priceless." He giggled and shoved the spoon at Roy to stir before stumbling over the counter and collapsing onto it and laughing. "We're complete noodles," he sniggered out.

"I told you so."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I hope it's not weird to have sexual fantasies about food 'cause if it is I'm gonna have to have a serious conversation with my future husband about some of my tastier kinks just saying**


	27. How the dysfunctional function: part 1

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I did this after I saw a post on Tumblr about something like this for another pairing I like, so I decided that hell, I don't have anything I need to do 'til the 22****nd****— might as well do a RoyEd one. Because they are my OTP and basically run my life but you guys probably figured that out by now. Also, I got a few of the ideas mentioned in here from another post I saw on Tumblr, so if anyone read that, you might be able to pick out a few things I referenced or whatever. **

**This one is in Roy's POV, and its counterpart will be in Ed's and should be posted within a day or two because I have nothing better to do woooo~**

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**Title: **How the dysfunctional function

**Rating:** K – T, only for a swear or two though.

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We have been asked many times how a relationship as dysfunctional and unstable as ours is could possibly work, and sometimes I find myself wondering the same thing. There have been many moments where I've had the fleeting thought—always accompanied with a nasty, churning guilt afterwards— that this wasn't going to work out in the long run.

I love Edward. I really do. Sometimes, though, it's extremely hard to remember that. After all, we bicker every other hour (and sometimes those petty squabbles turn into full-on screaming arguments that make me so frustrated I have to physically restrain myself from slapping some sense into him) and our personalities are essentially complete opposites. Hot and cold; day and night; light and dark. Edward is brash and reckless and often does things spur-of-the-moment while I'd rather plan things out and consider every possibility. We clash, but somehow, we work.

Edward is stubborn. He's lazy, sloppy, and let's face it, the kid is one of the rudest, most foul-mouthed people I've ever met in my entire life. No amount of scolding from myself or Alphonse seems to change that. I don't believe I've ever had a conversation with him where he hasn't called me bastard at some point. It's almost to the point where I've gotten used to it. He's terrible at manners and holding his tongue and diplomacy and sometimes I have a nearly irrepressible urge to tie him to a chair and refuse to let him go until he agrees to stop acting so immaturely.

It's partly because it ticks me off, I'm going to be honest. It honestly makes me so mad when he continues to act childish despite everything I've told him. He's quick to jump to conclusions, he won't back down even if he's already lost, and he sure as hell won't let anyone sway him on his beliefs. The other half of it is that his tenaciousness is going to get him in a lot of trouble one day, and, well, I'm not always going to be able to keep him safe.

And that terrifies me— knowing that one day he could be gone, just like that. He knows I'm scared of it, and it pisses him off because he thinks he can handle himself. He's so goddamn _stubborn_. I understand why he's afraid to get close to another person, and why trust is so hard for him— but damn it, I want him to trust me. I want to get past all those walls and break them down until it's just him. Just Ed.

Despite all that, Edward is still… well, he'd kill me if he knew I said this, but he's perfect to me. Flaws and all. It's true, sometimes I want nothing more than to just throttle him for stressing me out so badly I'm positive I'm going to turn prematurely gray— but there are times when I can forget that, because I remember how genuinely _good_ he is. I've heard him be compared to the sun before, but I don't think anyone truly understands just how true that is. He is warmth, light, life, happiness and hope in a small, golden package.

He's opinionated— _so damn opinionated, I swear_— but he has an extremely strong sense of what's right and wrong. He seems to understand the way the world works better than anyone else. He would never, _ever_ harm anyone or anything unless it was an act of self-defence, and even then, he hates to cause pain. He's killed before, it's true; but I can see in his eyes that he remembers each and every one of those deaths and that in a way, they live on in the horror and guilt that eats at him every day. It's an awful thing to see, but that's how Ed is. He wears his heart on his sleeve and shows genuine love and compassion to those around him. Even if he is breaking inside, he smiles, and it can truly make someone believe that he is something more than human.

He is brighter than you can imagine— hell, the kid joined the military when he was barely a teen. Not even. He is a genius, and that reputation follows him to this day. He has seen things most kids his age have never even dreamt of and because of that, he understands life and the living incredibly well. When he talks about alchemy, you can see a flame flare up in his eyes as they dim and focus on a different reality other people don't see. It's as if he becomes one with the power inside of him— he is, essentially, his own gift.

He is also the most selfless person I have ever met. I'm sure if I tried telling that to someone, they would laugh and question my sanity— but although Edward can be selfish (let's not get started on the blankets every night), he will not hesitate to sacrifice himself for the sake of others. His life, his own desires, everything— if it meant saving someone's life, I have no doubts he'd give it all up in a heartbeat. That's especially true with his brother. Those two share a bond unlike anything I've ever seen before and the dedication and loyalty they show each other proves Edward's selflessness. He is unbelievably beautiful in every sense of the word.

I don't know if it was fate, or chance, or some glitch in the universe that led me to meeting him, but I can honestly say that it was the best thing that has ever happened to me. Without meaning to, without even doing anything in particular, he's changed me. At first, he was… he was something I had to protect. Something I could admire from afar and encourage and shape and lead. I soon discovered that he didn't need protection— he is strong. Stronger than I am, probably. The name Fullmetal is perfect for him because he is the epitome of it. It was about then that I'd realized that he was different and it was then that he started to hold a special place in my heart— because I knew he didn't need protection, but I ached to protect him anyway. And then before I knew it, he had become my reason.

Sometimes I lose myself in memories. I drift off and think of the past and it gets bad. Sometimes it gets so bad that I forget how to breathe and my heart starts beating too fast and all I see is black because every single life I've ended comes back to haunt me and suffocates me all at once until it's all I can do not to lose my mind. It's at times like these that I wonder why I keep going. Then he's there— wrapping his mismatched arms around me, one warm and flesh, the other cold and metal— and he smiles at me and I remember what it is to be alive. He is my sanctuary, my warmth, and my sunshine.

That's it. That's why we work. Because even though we mix as well as oil and water— we can still stick side-by-side, and that's all we need.

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Can we just… can we just take a moment to all cry together over how fucking perfect this pairing is, I mean, I still like Edwin and Royai but this fucking RoyEd shit has got my heart in such a knotted mess of feels and angst because they are fucking perfect.**


	28. How the dysfunctional function: part 2

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Are you guys convinced that I have no life yet 'cause if you're not you're wrong.**

**Well anyways, this is Ed's part, and I'm glad you all liked the last one ;3 *Ozzy Osbourne voice* AAAAAAAAAALLLLLL ABOOOOOOOOOARRRRRRRD! [the RoyEd train, departing to the Land of Feels and Cry and Other Such Sappy Tear-Inducing Things] **

**Say, didn't one of you guys leave a review like that? It's funny 'cause I was thinking about writing it on the A/N on the last chapter but I didn't… reading my mind now, are you? .-. You sneaky little devils.**

**Enough of my stupid rambling, here is Ed's part. I hope it's as good as Roy's. *derps off***

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**Title: **How the dysfunctional function (part 2)

**Rating**: T, for language because Edward Elric

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I swear to whatever god there may be that Roy and I are constantly standing at that paper-thin line between love and hate. Sometimes I'm tempted to shove him over into the 'hate' side— he's _such_ a bastard, that sometimes, I really do think I hate him. It's fucking annoying, though. As much as I hate him, I love him and I love him so _much_ that it hurts to think of life without him. It's like there's this hollow, throbbing pain in my chest that goes away whenever he's around. I hate it. I really do. This… dependency. I wish it could be easy— that I could live without him. But I can't. And that… scares me. It scares me a lot.

When he's in the office, he's not Roy. He's Colonel Mustang. And Colonel Mustang is a cold and ostentatious mask that he wears like some kind of façade to keep others from seeing just how much of a cold and manipulative bastard he is. The Colonel is a professional, calculating suck-up that is way too sneaky and cunning for his own good. He's so intelligent, in fact, that sometimes it scares me. I might be a genius, but this man— his mind whistles to a different tune entirely.

We all know that in the office, he's cocky and he such a slacker he makes me look good. He constantly shirks his duties and sits there at his desk with that stupid smirk on his face while he procrastinates, but as soon as there is the possibility of glory or military notoriety, damn, does he jump into gear. He is extremely manipulative and always, _always_ thinks steps ahead of everyone else, which gives him a notable talent for making others act exactly like he wants them to without looking like he did anything. I know it's the reason he's so damn successful, and I know it's an incredibly useful skill to have working in that field, but I really wish he'd give it a rest sometimes. I'm his… well, I'm his partner. I know I'm his subordinate, but I really fucking hate it when he uses his control on _me_.

I hate that disguise. The cold, smirking, conniving man that is Colonel Mustang. I don't hate _him_, just the mask. And I can see that it's a mask, even though no one else can— maybe Hawkeye, or Hughes, when he was alive— and that's the reason I still put up with it. Because I love Roy enough to deal with his darker side and, well… I'm not exactly the most pleasant guy either, now am I?

I could most likely go on all day about why he pisses me off, but I probably shouldn't. Because… ugh, as much as he makes me want to tear my hair out all the time, I do love him, and there are a lot of things _to_ love about him. Fuck, I can't believe I'm actually saying this, but— well, he's… basically one of my only reasons for living sometimes. He has always been there for me. Ever since I met him. He might not have been straight-up with it, or gone about it nicely, but he's always had my back. He is, quite literally, the only reason I'm alive to say this. The military would have be executed in a second if they found out what Al and I did, but they don't, because Roy uses that cunning ability of his to keep me safe. He never told anyone, he sends me on missions that help me find out more about what I can do for Al, he has never judged me and… when I need him, he's there. He holds me when I cry and smiles when I need him to smile. He always has it together and I trust him because I feel like things could never go anywhere but according to plan whenever I'm with him, and if they happened to, he would be there to make sure it would damn well get back on track. He is… special. Damn it, I don't want to need him as much as I do, but I can't help it. He's become my everything just by being there.

He might be cold and stoic and even cruel, but the thing is, as much as it makes me want to punch him, all that manipulation has its purpose. Since I first got placed under his command, I'd tried so hard to understand what it was that made this man tick. He was so cold and detached that I thought that it was impossible for him to have anything he truly cared for besides glory and the stars on his jacket. Then I started to get to know him, and I got into his head, and I realized— it's the people around him. If he loves you, he fights for you, with his heart, soul, body, _everything_. That's when I understood that he wasn't what I thought— and, I'm pretty sure, that's when I realized that I'd been in love with him for a long time.

He's an insanely talented alchemist and strategist. He's got that dark side—and damn, that makes me feel like such a _girl_ because how damn perfect is it that I go and fall for the _bad boy_— but he's a legitimately nice guy underneath all that. He's kind and sweet and god, he's so _romantic_. He can spout some of the cheesiest, sappiest stuff ever, and make me feel like the most beautiful person in the world even though I'm the furthest thing from it. He makes me feel _needed_ and damn if that's not something I've wanted from someone other than Alphonse for a long time. I know things about him I'm positive no one else in the world knows, and he knows things about me that I'm too scared to tell even Al. He still loves me and kisses me and hugs me and tells me that I'm perfect and it's _real_. It isn't a façade. It's _him_. And that's why it means so much to me— he only shows his soft side to people he really, truly loves and trusts with all of his heart. And I'm one of the few he decided was good enough for that.

I've heard him say that we mix as well as water and oil, and I'd like to say that that is complete bullshit. There's no way we can sit there, side-by-side and completely stagnant. No. If anything, we're gasoline and fire— we connect and we explode. I know he'd like that, and I'm not gonna lie, the idea is pretty fuckin' awesome. Explosions are the best way to describe how we work— spontaneous and scary and loud and passionate and hot and just a little bit crazy.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Aw Ed u cutie ; w; **


	29. Nails and screws

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: YAY ANOTHER PROMPT FROM A READER! :D**

**Thanks **_15th Noah_** you fantastical person. Btw, I don't think I said it, but I love your pen name. **

**This will probably be my last update for a couple days. Maybe. I'm gonna be busy packing and whatnot for a bit so I might not have time to write. I will when I can, and it shouldn't be too long. It just won't be everyday like it has been, but I'll probably get back to doing that in a little bit. I know a lot of you like my consistent updates but merp real life is more important than RoyEd drabbles, sadly. So yeah. Next update won't be for a few days.**

**On a more cheerful note, I wrote down every single idea I have for drabbles on one document, and there are 38 in total. Eventually I will have 38 more RoyEd oneshots... Wow D: I've said this before but hell feel free to contribute and give ideas hehee**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Nails and screws**

**Rating: T for a LOT of swearing.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"It's finally in!" Ed came flying into the living room, his eyes sparkling excitedly. Roy warily looked up from where he was shifting through the bills, eyeing Ed with uncertain eyes. The eldest Elric was standing at the entrance to the living room and bouncing on the balls of his feet with a huge grin on his face.

"What?" Roy asked apprehensively. He set the papers in his hands down as Ed rushed over and grabbed his wrist and then started dragging him to the front door. "Hold on, Ed," he said exasperatedly, "what are you talking about?"

"This!" Ed exclaimed, pointing a finger. Roy followed it and saw a giant box and a brand spanking new white mattress sitting at their front door. His eyebrows furrowed.

"What is that?" he asked, even though it was pretty clear what it was and it wasn't hard to guess what was in the box.

Ed's grin broadened. "Our new bed. And mattress."

Roy gave him an exasperated look. "Our new _what_? When did we get a new bed?"

"When I decided the one we have now is too damn creaky." Roy raised an eyebrow at that— he'd rather always enjoyed the creaky bed because he secretly thought it complimented the sound of their lovemaking very nicely. Apparently Ed didn't think so, because he was excitedly going on about how, "this one won't make stupid sounds every damn time you get up in the middle of the night to clean or whatever and wake me up! And it's mahogany, so it's great quality, and it was on sale for thirty percent off, _and_ now it matches your dresser and—"

Roy interrupted him with a fond chuckle. "You're something else, you know that?"

Ed snapped his mouth shut. "What do you mean by that?"

"You're excited by a _bed_," Roy pointed out, eyes sparkling at Ed's indignant tone. A small grin found its way onto his face when Ed's eyes took on a sneaky glint and his cheeks flushed a pleasant pink.

"Of course I am," he responded, his voice mischievous and a bit naughty. "After all, we'll have to… _break it in_, if you know what I mean." His lips curved into a slight smirk and Roy found himself grinning back. Maybe a new bed wasn't such a bad idea after all.

"You might be able to twist my arm, Edward," he said with a quirked eyebrow. Ed's grin widened.

"Come on," he said, dragging Roy towards the box and mattress. "I already signed and paid. Help me drag it up to the room."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

A few hours later saw a lot of cursing and swearing and screaming and crying as they spread out the pieces to assemble and tried in vain to follow the instructions. It wasn't too bad, Ed supposed. They only threatened to break up twice and Roy only ran screeching to grab his gloves with the intent of burning the pieces to ash once.

"Pass me that screw," Ed said, holding a couple nails between his teeth. Roy picked up a nail and went to hand it to him, but Ed let out an impatient growl and said, "No, a _screw_, dipshit."

Roy threw his hands up in frustration. "What the fuck is the difference?"

"The difference, Roy," Ed said through grit teeth, "is that you _screw_ a screw and nail a nail. Now give me the fucking screw before these pieces fall apart."

"That's ridiculous. The definition is essentially the same. I can screw you, or I could nail you, and it means the exact fucking same thing."

Ed rolled his eyes heavenward. He made a twirling motion with his finger. "Screw," he explained in a slow voice, like he was talking to a confused child, "and nail," he finished, wamming his fist against his open palm. "Got it? Fuck, it's not that hard."

"I get it, but I still don't see why the hell there are two different kinds of thingies," Roy muttered, passing Ed the required screw, "It's fucking pointless."

"No it's not," Ed responded impatiently. He grabbed a screwdriver and started putting the screw in, spitting the nails in his mouth onto the ground before tersely asking, "Fuck, didn't you ever build anything before?"

"Nothing like _this_," Roy snapped. "This is fucking bullshit." He tossed the instruction manual at Ed. "Like, what the fuck is that? Step three? It looks like it's telling us that that post and that plank are having sex. Fucking look." He jabbed a finger at it angrily. Ed grabbed the paper and scowled.

"It's just saying to put the post in that hole, idiot."

"Basically they are having sex."

"Oh my god, they are _not_ having sex, it's wood for fuck's sake." Then he noticed Roy grin and snapped, "Actual _wood_, not like _that_. Get your damn mind out of the gutter."

"_Sorry_," Roy muttered, rolling his eyes. "You were the one who mentioned breaking in the bed."

"That was hours ago! Focus, damn it!" Then the pieces Ed was attempting to hold together as he reached for a nail this time fell apart and he cursed loudly. "For fuck's sake! Fucking _stay_!"

"See? I'm not the _only_ one who thinks this is ridiculous!"

"Shut the fuck up, I _got this_—" The pieces slid apart again and clattered back onto the ground. For a moment, Ed stared blankly, and then he threw his head back and shrieked, "I fucking said _stay_!"

"Let me try," Roy said, shoving him aside (not gently) and not giving a fuck because he was pissed because this was _ridiculous_. He put the pieces how Ed had them and held them firmly together. "Pass me a… what? Is this a nail or a screw thing?"

"Nail," Ed said shortly, looking peeved beyond belief. His hair was tied up in a messy bun and his bangs shoved back with some random clips and even though he looked adorable Roy was too annoyed at this whole situation to really notice. "How come you got it to stay?" Ed pouted grumpily. "That's not fair."

"Hell if I know," Roy muttered, putting the nail in how he thought it should go. Ed handed him the hammer. Roy stared at it. "I'm not using that."

"Why the hell not? That's how you nail shit."

"What if I hit my thumb?"

Ed stared at him exasperatedly. "Then fucking boo-hoo! Damn it, Roy, it's not like you've never felt pain before! Suck it up!"

"Just because I've felt pain before doesn't mean I'd like to feel it again." Roy frowned and shoved the hammer back Ed's way. "You do it then. You have a metal hand."

"Goddamnit, are you that much of a fucking pussy?"

"Shut your mouth you shrimp, I still have my gloves on you know," Roy snapped back.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE'D GET LOST UNDERNEATH ALL THESE NAILS? YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

"I never said—" Then the pieces fell apart again, and there was a very long moment of silence after they hit the ground with a dull 'thud' and stayed still as if mocking them. Ed was making a growling sound low in his throat that sounded almost animalistic. Roy's eyebrow twitched. Then Ed flopped onto his back and wailed to the ceiling about how much life sucked and how fucking unfair this was and how it was fucking stupid and that beds shouldn't be this goddamned hard to put together, damn it as Roy just sat there trying to resist the urge to burn every single piece to ash. He lost.

"Alright," he said in a decided voice, "I am going to burn it all now." He raised his hand and was about to snap when Ed gasped and tackled his arm away.

"You can't!" he cried. "This cost so much fucking Cenz it isn't even funny! Don't even think about burning it! We still have to break it in!"

Roy was so annoyed he tried to shove him off, but Ed clung to his arm like a barnacle. "Fuck, Ed! This is bullshit! Go call a fucking professional or some shit, I'm _not_ doing this!"

"There is no such thing as a professional bed-assembler!" Ed griped. He grabbed Roy's hand and struggled for a moment between Roy squirming to get away and trying to avoid the sharp screws to get his glove off. Frustrated, he finally pinned Roy's arm to the ground and managed to whip it off before chucking it to the other side of the room. He did the same to the other hand until they were both lying there panting and pissed and huffing and puffing and glaring at each other. After a long while of intense glaring, Roy's lips started twitching and Ed's eyes were squinted and weird like he was trying to repress a laugh. Finally, Roy let out a small snicker, and then Ed doubled over giggling, and soon enough they were lying on the ground laughing way harder than they probably should be.

"Professional bed-assembler," Ed wheezed. "You fucking moron."

"It's a legitimate necessity," Roy said defensively through another bout of sniggers. He finally sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "Ed?"

"What?"

"This is way harder than it should be."

"I agree," Ed said, propping himself up on his elbows. "I need a fuckin' break. Maybe some damn alcohol."

"No alcohol. You're still underage."

Ed rolled his eyes. "That doesn't stop you from fucking me into the mattress, now does it?"

"Shut up, that's different." Roy sat up and sighed again, crawling to the nearest pieces and then looking over each one of them. "Let's just finish this stupid thing."

"So we can break it in?"

"Fuck that, I'm gonna need a drink before anything after we're done this."

"But you said I couldn't have one! That's not fair!"

"Sucks to suck, Ed." Roy held two pieces together and pinned one in place with his knee. He held his hand out. "Pass me a nail."

"That's a place for a fucking screw, you idiot."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, pass me a fucking screw then you damned shrimp."

Ed tossed one at him and glared. "Screw you."

"Gladly, if we could ever fucking get this bed put together." Roy put his hand out. "Another nail."

"_Fucking screw, Roy_."

"What_ever_."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Seriously though, I don't understand screws and nails. Do they have different purposes or do you just randomly decide to use a screw instead of a nail or vice-versa? - w- This is why I don't build things.**


	30. Switch 3

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Ugghhhh I have had like no time to write! Sorry!**

**Yay for herpderp Roy bonding with Al time in this one wooo husband and brother-in-law bonding aw yis**

**Sorry it's fucking hot out and my brain is boiled sorry if this is derpy**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Switch 3 (continuation to chapter 19)**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Roy never did end up getting his piece of cake, but he supposed it wasn't that big of a deal. He would just get Ed back sometime. Maybe by eating the last of the stew next time they kept leftovers. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and wasn't surprised to see himself grinning, but it was weird because it was his grin on Ed's face, and Ed didn't grin like this. But damn… he looked pretty good.

A bit weirded out— he was _essentially _checking himself out, even though he was in Ed's body, and it felt like selfcest or some weird shit like that— he quickly looked away from the mirror. There was an irritating warm humming in his abdomen, and it wasn't from the satisfaction the cake brought. Rather, it was from the … _dissatisfaction_ of being in Ed's body and ultimately being unable to have sex with him. Unless he decided to masturbate, but that— it was weird. It was kinda hot, but it was weird. But he really shouldn't be thinking about this with the Elrics sitting right across from him.

"You know," he said, to distract himself from his wandering thoughts, "that _was_ my piece of cake."

Ed let out a very undignified snort which Roy thought didn't sound all that great in his own voice. "Suck it up, bastard. I can't even count the amount of times you've eaten my piece of whatever."

"Still," Roy muttered, indignant.

Ed rolled his eyes and looked like he was about to say something particularly snarky, but a shrill ringing sound cut him off before he could get anything out. For a moment, they all sat there blankly staring at the phone, until Roy finally jumped to his feet and hastily ran over. He heard Alphonse gasp something like, "Roy, wait—" but it was too late.

"Hello?" he said before Al finished his warning. For a moment, he was confused as to why the Elrics looked so panicked.

"…Edward?"

"What? No, it's—" Then Roy realized. He slapped a hand to his forehead. "Uh, yeah. Hey, Major, uh—"

"Why are you at the general's house?"

Roy froze for a moment, staring at the phone in his hands. Their relationship wasn't exactly a _secret_ amongst his men, but… it was more of a suspected relationship. They'd never confirmed it, but he knew they all suspected it. "I'm just… he wanted to review my last… mission," he said pathetically.

Hawkeye remained silent for a moment. Roy felt irrationally nervous. "I see," she said finally. "And you answered his phone?"

Roy smacked himself mentally again. "Yeah. He's in the washroom, and I thought— it might have been important, and… yeah."

"I see," she repeated, suspicion clear as day in her voice. Still, she didn't ask. "When he's out, would you please put him on the phone?"

"Yeah, uh— actually, he just came out now. One minute." He put his hand over the mouthpiece and gestured for Ed to come over. Looking a bit nervous, Ed did so.

"I can't talk to her!" he hissed, panicked. "She'll know it isn't you!"

"She already suspects something," Roy whispered back. "Just talk. If she asks, say you drank some whiskey earlier, and you're a bit tipsy. She won't ask after that."

Ed still looked nervous, but he nodded. "Fine," he muttered, "but you owe me." He put the phone to his ear. "Major?"

Roy didn't know what else to do, so he walked back to the living room and sunk into the chair, resting his head in his hands. "God," he muttered tiredly, "this is awful."

"I know," Al responded, looking genuinely sympathetic. "But we'll get you two back to normal." He paused for a moment. "It's freaky, isn't it? Everything feels wrong."

"I'm definitely not used to seeing things from this low," Roy agreed, ignoring the glare Ed shot him from the kitchen. He straightened and sifted half-assedly through the documents littering the coffee table, which he'd brought down a little while ago while they had been busy eating his cake. "I don't think this will take too long for me to remember," he muttered, mostly to himself. "It's basic enough and I made enough notes that it shouldn't take more than a day or two, maybe…" He looked up and saw Ed walking back into the living room, his face pale and eyes wide. His lips were pressed into a thin line and he stared at Roy with something like hysteria.

"Brother?" Al said anxiously before Roy could ask. "What is it?"

"She wants Roy in at work," Ed said, his voice a papery whisper. "Which means I have to go. And I have no idea what the hell I have to do."

Roy snapped to attention. "When?"

"She said… like, now."

"Great," Roy breathed, frustrated beyond belief. This just _had_ to go and be infinitely more complex than it already was, didn't it? His luck really was awful. "Did she say what she needed?"

"She said some important documents came in, and that they need to be reviewed immediately." Ed freaked out a little bit then, flailing his arms about in a way that obviously signified great importance but mostly just made him look insane. "I don't even fuckin' know how to review documents! Like, do I actually have to _read_ all that bullshit? And how the hell am I supposed to sign them? My writing is _shit_ and I—"

"Come here," Roy ordered. Ed immediately shut up and sat next to him, his eyes wide. For a moment, Roy stared into his own eyes, and then he said, "Calm down, alright?" Ed nodded jerkily. "It's not hard. Just skim the papers— you don't have to read them word for word. Only sign if you need to. If you're unsure about anything, bring them home and I'll look at them."

"Can't you just come with me?" Ed whispered nervously.

"I would, but if we're both acting odd, she'll notice." Roy hesitated, then added, "Don't worry, alright? You'll be fine. Here." He tore a corner from one of the pages on the table and scrawled his signature onto it. "It's not too hard to do. Just try and copy this. If it's a little off, don't worry about it— no one looks at them that hard anyway."

"But what if I do it wrong and you get in trouble?"

Roy couldn't help but smile. "It's only paperwork. They won't fire me over something like that. We can just chalk it up to me having a bad day."

"Okay." Ed got to his feet. He still looked nervous. "Is there anything I should specifically _not_ do?"

"Don't swear," Roy said with a grimace. "And don't talk like… you. Try to act somewhat professional."

"Good luck with that," Al put in, smirking a bit. Ed shot him a scowl and started heading to the front door.

"Alright… well, I'll be back in a bit, I guess. I'll try not to screw up."

"Don't worry," Roy repeated. "You'll be fine."

"I'll remember to act like a bastard."

"Perfect."

"And I'll remember to slack."

"Please don't. I'm really trying to cut back on that."

Ed snorted. "I'm sure you are. Okay, I'm going. I'll call if anything goes wrong."

After he was gone, Al let out a deep sigh and sunk back into the couch. "This is going to be a long day," he muttered under his breath. Roy raised an eyebrow in agreement— there wasn't much else to say, because that was the blatant truth. Wordlessly, he sat on the floor in front of the coffee table and made himself comfortable. They'd might as well get started on these—the sooner this was over, the better. He looked up to see Al looking slightly uncomfortable.

"What's wrong?" he asked distractedly, flipping through the pages. Where was that one…

"Are you sure you're alright with me being here?" Al asked quietly, shifting a bit. "I mean, without Ed. Since I'm just his brother and all."

"I don't mind," Roy responded lightly. He raised a wry eyebrow. "I don't know why you think I would be. It isn't as if you're a stranger, and plus, I _am_ dating your brother so it isn't exactly realistic to think we'll never spend time together."

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Al looked relieved and quickly joined him on the ground. He reached for a couple papers. "Where should I start?"

For the next couple hours, they sat there, sifting through the pages and trying to put all the information back together. It was a bit tricky, but it eventually started coming back, and Roy slowly become more and more confident about performing the transmutation again. This had refreshed his memory well enough for him to be assured that he could do it again without messing it up this time. Then, while Al was reading a page and chewing distractedly on the tip of a pen, he froze. Roy looked up from his own page.

"Did you find something?"

"No," Al said shakily. His eyes— a darker shade of gold than Ed's— were wide with realization. "Something just occurred to me." Roy raised an eyebrow. "You can't do the transmutation."

Roy frowned. "What do you mean? I remember everything, and I…" He trailed off as it dawned on him. Al looked pale.

"You're in Ed's body, so you can't transmute. Which means I have to do it." He stared at the sheets on the table. "Ed can't hope to do it because there's no _way_ he can read this and your notes aren't enough… which… which means that I have to read them all. _Actually_ read them. Not just skim them and use your notes. I have to go over every damn detail. I don't want to mess this up."

Roy groaned and ran his hands down his face. He'd been feeling a bit squeamish and warm, not used to having such long and thick hair, but now he felt an inexplicable cold chill of dread. It had taken him a while to decipher the notes, and he was _fluent_ in Xingese. For someone who wasn't… he imagined it would take quite some time. Even with his notes. They weren't much of anything except for little details he'd hastily jotted down so he would have an easier time skimming them. "You _can_ read it, right?"

Al bit his lip. "Uh, well, yeah, but… I'm pretty rusty. All I know is the basics and a bit other than that."

"Great," Roy heaved a sigh and leaned his back onto the bottom of the couch. "So this is going to take a while longer than we thought, huh?"

"I'm sorry," Al mumbled, looking terribly guilty.

"Don't apologize. It's not your fault." Roy straightened again and leaned his elbows on his knees to rest his chin on his hands. His eyes narrowed as he contemplated the situation. "It took me at least two weeks to decode it completely. It'll take you a while too, even with my notes…" He trailed off, trying to think of a way around it and becoming incredibly frustrated when he couldn't.

"Roy?" Al said timidly.

Roy blinked and snapped out of it. Al had only started calling him by his first name recently, so it was surprising enough to draw him from his thoughts. "Yes?"

"I was thinking… you have to work, right? For the next few days?"

Roy nodded. "Today was my last day off for a week or two." He grimaced as he remembered that just now. "Damn it, Ed isn't going to be happy. Why?"

"Well, since Ed has to act as you, and let's be honest, he has _no_ idea what he's doing," they chuckled at that, because it was true— he was probably panicking right now, "why don't we go with him? I know you said that Hawkeye will notice the both of you acting weird, but I'm sure eventually she'll just think she's imagining things and leave it alone. Besides that, it wouldn't look too weird to anyone else. He spends a lot of time with you in your office anyway." When Roy couldn't stop the slight smirk tugging at his lips, Al flushed and blurted, "I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know," Roy chuckled, leaning back again. "Sorry."

Al shook his head, flustered. His ears were bright red. It reminded Roy of Ed so much that he couldn't help but smile again, making the youngest Elric groan and toss a pen at him. "General_, please_."

"I'm sorry!" Roy grinned despite himself and held his hands up beside his head in the universal surrender sign. "I promise I'm done. Please continue."

Sighing, Al did. "_Anyway_, we could bring the notes there and you could help me decode them, and help Ed be you at the same time. You know?" Roy nodded, and Al continued, "With your help, and the added time, it shouldn't take me any more than a week. And plus, I'm positive Ed would feel a lot better if you were there."

"That's not a bad idea, actually," Roy said thoughtfully. After a moment, he nodded. "Alright," he said, his tone final. "Sounds like a plan."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I swear, why do I have a fanfic going on inside a fanfic. **


	31. Travel Blues

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Hey guys, updates are gonna be slow because I only have wifi at night now since I am currently on a road trip. Also it's kinda hard to find time to write when you're constantly with your parents. D: **

**And yes, I wrote this because I HATE TRAVELLING AND WANTED TO MAKE A THING FOR IT.**

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**Title: Travel Blues**

**Rating: T for language**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Ed hated traveling. He was too antsy to sit there watching scenery pass, the train cars were loud and bumpy, and most of all, the wooden chairs made his ass feel like something had ran over it twice and then once more just for sick satisfaction— and this time wasn't made any better by the fact that he had a cold and his head felt like it was going to explode anytime soon.

"Ugh," he groaned, flopping tiredly back into his seat across from his brother. "I hate traveling, especially by train. Did you know some fucking asshole almost fell on me earlier when we went over a bump? Then he had the nerve to call me a shorty."

Al giggled a bit. "Let me guess, you told him where to go, right?"

"Damn straight," Ed muttered. He looked around with a scowl and rubbed at his red nose with a tissue. "Where'd Colonel Shithead go?"

"You really shouldn't be so mean," Al reprimanded softly. "He made the point to take leave so he could help us find that doctor, and he was the one who found out about his research on human transmutation. You could at least /pretend/ that you didn't want to punch him in the head."

"Why?" Ed said grouchily. "It's not like he goes out of his way to be nice to me."

"That is because you are a brat," said a familiar, smug voice from behind him, and without even looking back Ed knew who it was. The smirk was audible in the man's voice as he took a seat beside Ed, with grace that pissed Ed off because who the fuck managed to be graceful on a goddamn train? Fuckin' Mustang. "And since you're a brat," the Colonel was saying, "I don't find it unduly necessary to be polite." He finished this with a quirked eyebrow and offered Ed one of the bread rolls he'd apparently picked up from the food car. "Want one?"

Ed stared at it with a look of contempt, then he lifted his gaze up to the Colonel's expectant eyes. For a moment, he continued staring suspiciously, until Roy finally cracked a grin and said, "I didn't poison it, Fullmetal."

Ed sniffled and took it with another scowl. "Thanks," he muttered begrudgingly. He blatantly ignored the smile playing on Mustang's lips and pointedly glared out of the window just to let everyone know how complete pissed off he was about their current escort.

"I'm surprised the lieutenant didn't tag along," Al piped up. "You two are practically attached at the hip, Colonel."

Roy chuckled. "Unfortunately, only I was able to get the two days off, but she did give me the checklist of do's and don'ts before letting me leave." His eyes slid Ed's way. "The don'ts _did_ include picking on Edward, but I don't think that's an order I can follow."

Ed snorted, "I doubt you'd listen even if the Fuhrer himself told you to leave me alone."

"Oh, without a doubt."

"You're a jerk."

"You're a shrimp."

"Don't call me that!" Ed shrieked, before collapsing into a fit of coughs. Roy almost looked guilty. Almost. Until Ed regained his breath and shot him another glare. "Old man."

Roy's eyebrow twitched. "Pipsqueak."

"Bastard!"

"Flea."

"Oh shut up you goddamned immoral colonel with a god-complex! You're annoying!" Ed violently tore off a piece of bread and shoved it into his mouth. "The only reason I'm not beating your ass is 'cause you fed me, you piece of shit."

Mustang looked like he was about to respond with something equally, if not even more snarky, but a vague throat-clearing sound on Al's part interrupted him. "Please, you guys…" he said warily. "We already get weird stares as it is what with me being a seven foot tall walking armor, but you two are so loud the whole train looks ready to kick us off."

Both looked faintly guilty. "Sorry," Ed mumbled as Mustang just sighed. He reached across Ed, to the little table in the middle where a map was laid out along with the rolls he'd grabbed and some paperwork he'd brought along for the ride, and raised his eyebrows when Ed glared at him again. It was dulled slightly by the bright red flush on his face, but Roy got the message just the same.

"What?"

"Don't get so close to me." Ed scrunched up his nose. "You'll rub your bastardness all over me. Shit's like herpes."

Roy rolled black eyes heavenward. "For god's sake, Fullmetal, I was reaching for the map."

"You were gettin' a little too cozy for my comfort."

"No," Roy said calmly, scooting very close to Ed until their arms were touching and Ed's flush flared across his entire face. "_This_ is cozy."

After a moment of shock, Ed squirmed and violently kicked at him. "Get away! You're getting your bastardness on me—"

"There is no such thing."

"Maybe not but with you there is!" Ed's hand planted firmly on his cheek and he shoved at him with a dangerous growl. "Damn it, Mustang, get _off_—"

"Get your hand off of my face."

"Get your _self_ offa _me_!"

"I will not hesitate to bite you."

"Bite me and I'll fuckin' piss on your grave, you jerk—"

"I said _shut up_!" Al shouted, grabbing each of them with one large gloved hand and shoving them apart. He loomed over them threateningly, red eyes glowing like fire in black pits. "Now If you both don't stop acting like _five year olds_ I'll lock one of you in the luggage racks and sit on the other!" With a large clunk, he sat back down, practically glowering at them even though he had no face to glower with. "Do I make myself _clear_?"

"Crystal," Ed murmured, glowering to the side. His face was burning. Stupid cold making him blush for no reason. Stupid cold making his stupid arm feel all stupid after the stupid colonel touched it. Stupid Mustang. Stupid Mustang looking all smug and amused and shit.

"Jeez," Al grumbled, leaning back and crossing his arms over his large chest piece. "I could swear you two are an old married couple by the way you bicker."

"As if I'd marry _him_."

"Likewise, pipsqueak."

Ed looked livid and like he might start another argument, but one glare from Al and he shut his mouth. "Ugh," he said irritably under his breath. "How long 'til we're there?"

Roy studied the map he'd grabbed earlier for a moment. "We're about here," he pointed at a spot on the map, "and we're going here." He dragged his finger further down the bright red line. "That's just about two more hours, I think."

"Great," Ed sighed. "Two more hours stuck in this damn train with you. We might have to make a stop at the nearest loony bin on the way so I can check myself in."

"Hilarious," said the Colonel flatly. He looked up at Al, who was staring warily between them again, and said, "How do you deal with this?"

"He's not usually this bad." Al paused, then added with a rather smirking tone, "I'm fairly sure it's just you."

"I figured."

"Ugh," Ed grumbled for the umpteenth time. He got to his feet, holding on to the window ledge for balance as the train went over a particularly bumpy spot. In response to the questioning looks he received, he said, "I'm going for a walk. Try not to corrupt my little brother while I'm gone, bastard." Roy rolled his eyes in response to that and moved his legs so Ed could walk by. At the same time, the train jerked suddenly and Ed went flying, nearly smacking his head off the bench, and a wind of colorful curses flew from his mouth as he fell over.

Luckily, he landed on something softer than the ground. Not so luckily, it happened to be the Colonel.

Ed immediately shot up, his entire face turning a shade of red embarrassingly close to the one of his coat. He practically fell onto the seat and sat as close to the wall and as far away from the Colonel as he possibly could, eyes like saucers. Roy looked startled, and flushed lightly too, but quickly composed himself and brought a hand up to muffle a snicker. Ed's head whipped his way and he glared so evilly it sent an imaginary chill down Al's metaphorical spine.

"Fuck you." Ed's voice was like nails on a chalkboard. He blushed furiously as Mustang seemed unable to repress his sniggers. "_Fuck you_."

"Language," Roy reprimanded lightly.

"_Fuck. You."_ Ed growled. Roy just laughed again. Even Al was trying not to laugh by now. Ed glowered and tried to pretend his face wasn't the same temperature as the sun and sunk low in his seat, hiding in his collar.

Yes, Ed really did hate traveling.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Roy's all like trololol**


	32. Stubborn

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Anyone else have a thing for their hair being tugged? No? okay. *sulks* **

**Yay for a hastily-done drabble written in the backseat of my truck! ;3 Also I tried first-person present tense again. I like writing like this for some reason.**

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**Title: Stubborn**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Hey."

The simple word is enough to tear my attention away from the piles of paperwork and scattered documents on my coffee table. I still my pen and glance up to see Edward standing there, one hand holding his dripping hair up in a messy hand-ponytail behind his head. He's shirtless, with nothing but a light blue towel around his waist, which sits a bit lower than it probably should, giving a perfect view of the scarred, tanned abs he usually hides under loose muscle shirts and jackets. I let my eyes linger for a moment, certain it should be illegal to be so attractive, and lift my gaze to see him giving me an expectant, slightly impatient look.

"Hey yourself," I finally say, looking back down at my work to distract myself from how sexy and huggable and touchable and plenty of other adjectives that dwell into the inappropriate side of things that he looks like that. "What's up?"

"Have you seen any of my hair elastics?" he asks, looking grouchy. "I can't find any."

"Don't you have a bunch in the top drawer in the bathroom?" I say, sticking my pen between my teeth as I grab a stack of finished documents and set it aside, out of my way. "That's the only place I can think of. I think there's one around the chocolate chip bag in the cupboard, too."

"'Kay, thanks." With that, he turns and walks back to the stairs, his mismatched feet making an uneven pattern of sound against the hardwood floor. One silent, one a loud thud, the next silent, and so on. I try not to ogle his ass too much as he saunters away, but it's kind of hard to ignore it in that ridiculously short towel. He really shouldn't walk around like that. It's not good for my heart and I'd like to be able to sign my paperwork without feeling sexually frustrated.

A little while later I hear his irregular footsteps approaching again. This time, he's wearing a pair of loose, gray sweatpants. I think they're mine. They look a bit big on him, sitting teasingly low and loose on his slim hips, shamelessly showing off the indented _V_ that always makes my throat feel dry. It seems he found a hair tie; he twirls it around on one finger as he walks over and plops onto the floor beside me, our thighs touching slightly as he extends his legs under the coffee table.

"Whatcha up to?" he asks, sweeping a gold gaze over my work. He picks up a small pile of papers, stapled together, and flips through them with a furrowed brow and puckered lips without waiting for me to answer him. I wonder if he knows how cute he looks when he does that, or how much it makes me want to pin him down and kiss him. "Hey," he says, drawing me out of my lingering thoughts about how soft his lips look right now, "is this about Youswell? I thought I cleared up everything there when I went a few years ago. Got rid of Yoki and stuff."

"You did," I reply, taking them from him when he hands them back and starts snooping through other papers. "There have been some riots and outbreaks involving a neighboring town recently. It's called Mundare, I think. Apparently, a few tons of gold went missing a week or two ago, and they've been in conflict with Mundare for just over a year, so naturally Youswell blamed them." I shrug. "I'm supposed to send a group down to investigate what really happened, but I haven't decided who yet."

"I want to go," he says, an angry look coming over him. He snaps the elastic around his fingers irritably before reaching behind his head to wind his long hair expertly into a smooth braid, all the while complaining, "I don't want anyone screwing up the peace there. I risked losing my damn job to fix the situation and there's no way in hell I'm gonna let it get fucked up, not after all that."

"It's a three week long mission," I say quietly. That's why I had never brought it up to him. It might be selfish— actually, it's extremely selfish— but I don't like him being away on missions that long. For one, I can't keep tabs on him and make sure he doesn't die, and I also don't like being away from him for that long. Even if he _is_ getting eerily close to Hawkeye's level of accuracy with a gun. My only reply is silence, and when I look over, he's glaring out the bay window across from us, a stubborn set to his jaw.

"I want to go," he repeats adamantly. This time, I don't answer. He turns to me, his eyes bright with that determination and stubbornness and passion that had hooked me so long ago. "There are people I know there. I want to help them. I don't want any fucking riots hurting anyone and I _really_ don't want it ruining the peace I got them."

"Edward…"

"I'm serious, Roy." And he is. "Send me and two others and we'll clear it up in a week tops."

I can't help it. He always wins whenever we argue about something he's got his mind set on. With a sigh, I give him a narrow eyed look and say, "Fine. I'll think about it."

"And you'll say yes," he says haughtily. "Won't you?"

I shift on the ground, staring down at my papers, and pretend I didn't hear him. Judging from the heavy stare boring into the side of my head, he knows I heard, and he's not pleased about my decision to ignore him.

"Well?" he says.

"Three weeks is a long time," is all I say.

"I said I'd get it done in one."

"I heard you, Edward," I say irritably.

He smiles a bit. "You're a big old baby, aren't you? If you wanna say you'd miss me too much, say it."

"Of course I'd miss you, you idiot. I'm just saying, I don't know that it's possible to get it done in a week."

"It is when you're me," Ed says with a wicked grin, raising his eyebrows. "Come on, _General_, you know I know how to do my job and that I do it damn well."

"Right. With explosions and collapsing buildings and innumerable amounts of my funds spent in damage repair," I say dryly. His grin falters and a glare replaces it, but it's only half-assed.

"I haven't fucked up for a while," he mutters defensively.

"I'm sorry?" I say, amusement lacing my words. "How about that mission on the Cretan border where a luckily empty complex apartment crumbled down without any explanation?"

"That was _so_ not my fault." He scowls.

"If you say so."

"I'm just saying, I know the people there. I can talk to them and get intel faster than any other random officer because of it." I still don't answer, so he widens his eyes slightly, pushes his bottom lip out a bit, leaning on my shoulder and looking up at me with a hurt-puppy face that I absolutely despise him for making because I can never say no to it. "Please?"

"Oh, fine," I sigh, leaning back on the bottom of the couch. I can't refuse him. "You can go, then. Unless I find someone more capable." I can feel his victorious grin on the crook between my shoulder and neck and tug at his braid warningly. "You're impossible."

"I'm well aware," he says with a honey-sweet smile. Then, his eyebrows push together and he frowns up at me. "Stop tugging my hair," he says gruffly, trying to swat my hand away.

"No." I pull it again, grinning at the venomous glare he gives me. He doesn't try to stop me anymore though, so I take the opportunity to unwrap the tie binding the end of the braid, making his hair tumble around his shoulders in damp waves. My breath leaves me for a moment. There is no way it's legal to be this beautiful, stubbornness and brashness and all. His cheeks are flushed lightly now.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he mumbles.

"Playing with your hair," I respond, turning on the ground so I'm facing him and he's sitting between my legs. "Turn around, will you?

"Don't you have paperwork to do?" he sighs, but he turns his back to me anyways, shaking the rest of his hair over his shoulders. I think vaguely to myself that I really do love his shampoo— it smells wonderful. Soft and warm like honey and oats. I wish he'd wear his hair loose more often, because it really does suit him; the light gold waves against the warm caramel of his skin is beautiful and brushes tauntingly against his slim neck.

I run my fingers down a strand softly. "Of course," I say. He twitches slightly as my fingers snag at knotty spots, sighing when they finally run through it, relaxing when it falls back onto his shoulderblades and slides to rest between them. "I'm just taking a break."

I watch as a shudder tears up his back when the behind of my fingers brush the nape of his neck. He mutters something, and I see his ears slowly turn a cherry red, but I can't quite catch the words. "What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me."

"No way, shut up."

"Edward."

"It was nothing, okay?" he says hotly, embarrassed. "Let it drop."

But the heat emanating from his neck and cheeks and ears suggests otherwise. I feel a smirk tug at my lips. "Does it feel good?"

"What?" Ed snaps, turning to give me a nasty glare. His hair gathers around his right shoulder, brushes softly over the scarred skin, then falls down his chest. I wonder again if he knows how beautiful he is.

"I asked if it feels good," I repeat, fingering a wayward strand. His eyes slowly glaze over, and he automatically tilts his head towards my hand, a delicate flush dusting across his cheeks and nose. I find myself wanting to wrap his hair around my hand and pull him farther back so I can kiss him, but before I can, he seems to realize what he's doing and snaps out of it, jerking his head back up and blatantly ignoring the wide grin on my face. I gather all of his hair in one hand, reaching with the other to brush as much of his bangs back as I can, and I can feel the heat of his face when I accidentally graze his jaw.

"It feels like you're playing with my hair," Ed mutters gruffly, words hot with embarrassment. My lips curl up again and I lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the place just behind his ear, chuckling when he shivers, sighing, and melts back into my chest.

"You're such a liar," I murmur, grinning at the half-hearted grumble I get in response to that. He finally lets out a heavy sigh.

"You'd better put it back in a braid."

"I think you should leave it loose," I say coyly. "You look really good like this. At least seventy-five percent more fuckable."

Ed snorts, and I can practically hear the eyeroll. "Ever the romantic, aren't you?"

"Only for you, my dear."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I WANT A RELATIONSHIP LIKE THIS *sobs for twelve centuries***


	33. Hormones

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: HOW THE FUCK DO I MANAGE TO GET A COLD IN THE MIDDLE OF SUMMER LIKE? Ugh. I'm supposed to be on vacation, too. -_- Sorry if this piece is weird, my mind is like haaha no**

**Anyway have an awkward puberty-addled Edward yay**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Hormones**

**Rating: M there's no lemon but it's necessary to be M so don't read it if you don't like it like that (even though I recognize some of you as being perves like me, hehe)**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

It's late. Very late. Really, he had meant to go to bed a lot earlier— maybe around ten, or eleven, or a decent hour and _not_ the ungodly time of four in the morning— but between paperwork and an audacious fire-sparkler blond alchemist barging into his house a couple hours ago, he hadn't gotten his wish. He probably could have left the paperwork for tomorrow and just left Edward in his living room and gone to bed, since all the brat apparently wanted was to use up his food supply and read his books and take up two thirds of the couch. For whatever reason, though, he'd stayed up, and when he'd offered to give Ed a ride home, the blond had snorted and called him an idiot, saying, "Why the hell would I have come over so late if I didn't want to fuck at some point?"

And so here they are, lying curled up together in the midst of afterglow; Ed's soft eyelids dusting over caramel cheekbones, his breathing deep and even and his hair splayed out carelessly on the pillow; Roy struggling to keep his eyes open so he can steal a few more loving glances at Edward's spent self and gently petting the length of his spine. He can tell Edward isn't quite asleep yet, from the way he arches into the delicate touch and from the nearly inaudible murmurs of sleepy pleasure escaping bruised, flushed lips. It doesn't take long, though, for the teen's body to relax, and his breathing evens out, and he falls asleep there like that, wrapped in the cocoon of Roy's arms and the heavy charcoal comforter covering them.

He finally allows his heavy eyelids to slide shut, and it doesn't take long for him to drift off too, blissful reality fading into indiscernible thoughts and dreams that become vague by his own lack of consciousness to understand them. He can vaguely hear a sound, like a moaning whine, in the fuzzy background, but he can't comprehend what it is. It begins getting louder, louder and louder, until it's a cacophony of sound, and he bolts up, eyes flying open.

The first thing his eyes search out is the clock. He groans when he reads the hands that tell him it's only seven, but rubs at his eyes anyway, knowing he probably won't be falling back asleep now. He realizes abruptly that the sound in his dream has not stopped— the moan persists in his sleep-fuzzy mind and it annoys him for a moment until he drags the rest of his mind into consciousness and realizes what it is.

He looks down beside him to see Edward lying on his back, shuddering and panting slightly, and feels a heat rise in his cheeks. Another mumbled moan flies from Ed's lips as he arches, head lolling to the side, eyebrows pushing together and eyelids twitching as his eyeballs roll around beneath them. Roy's body involuntarily warms up, and he can't tear his eyes away. Edward is sleeping, but he's moaning like he's being fucked— so he's having a wet dream. It's so incredibly sexy and Roy feels so dirty watching but he can't bring himself to look away, away from Ed's flushed cheeks and parted lips and squirming hips and the head of his erection pokes out from underneath the comforter and_ god_, Roy is _so_ tempted to touch him.

Ed's sleepy moans take on a whining edge and his eyebrows push together and his closed eyes bead with tears; an expression of complete bliss Roy easily recognizes. It's the face Ed makes when he first slides the tip in. His stomach heats up almost unbearably, arousal blooming in his abdomen and wracking at his nerves, making him itch to do _something_— which he is seriously debating. Ed would probably call him a pervert and screech like a banshee at him, but it's just so fucking hot, and Roy's seriously fighting a losing battle. He can't even remember how tired he is. All he's sure of is that he really, really wants to take Edward again, right now.

"Yes," Ed hisses in his sleep, his head jerking back. Roy nearly loses it and pounces. He shouldn't be watching. This is so personal and he feels so dirty. Before he can talk himself into looking away, Ed gasps, "Roy!" and shoots into a sitting position.

Roy automatically jerks away, heart pounding at the knowledge that Ed had been dreaming about _him_, staring with wide eyes at Ed, who is panting harshly and staring blankly at the wall across from him. He lets out a frustrated groan and flops back onto the pillow, the blankets sliding off of his hips, and Roy can see that apparently the dream wasn't enough because Ed was still as hard as he'd been earlier. Ed brings a hand up to his face and groans again through his teeth. "Damn it," he whispers, apparently unaware of his one-man audience. "Not again."

_Not again?_ Before Roy can stop himself, he says, "Does this happen often?"

Ed jerks upright again, eyes flying wildly to meet Roy's heated gaze. His cheeks turn an impressive shade of red and he immediately looks away, eyes stinging in embarrassment. "Were you watching me?" he whispers hotly, voice shaking with humiliation. Roy feels like he should deny it, but he decides it's probably best to tell the truth.

After a moment, he admits, "You woke me up. Of course I watched."

"Fucking pervert," Ed mutters under his breath, wrapping the blanket firmly around himself, doing his best to hide his erection. His cheeks burn in shame.

"We've had sex," Roy reminds him, not that he thinks Ed's forgotten. "I've seen you like this more times than I can count."

"That's not the point," Ed snaps, getting to his feet. He drags the blanket with him and wobbles for a moment, flesh leg like jelly. Even in the darkness of the room, Roy can still see Ed's blush, a beacon of bright red. "I'm going to fucking shower," Ed says under his breath.

Roy sits up and scoots to the end of the bed, catching Ed's hip before the blond can storm away. Ed's shoulders hike up to his ears and he gulps, staring back with huge eyes. He's so embarrassed Roy feels kind of bad about the whole thing. "You don't have to be embarrassed, you know—"

"Of course I do!" Ed whispers heatedly. "You fucking heard me having a wet dream— about _you_! That's so— so fucking embarrassing, I c-can't even—"

"No, you don't." Roy smiles a bit, trying to placate the blond with a calm demeanor. It doesn't seem to work very well, because Ed's face just reddens even more and he very pointedly avoids looking at him. Roy realizes that he's naked, since Ed stole the blanket, and reaches for a pillow to hide himself so maybe Ed could look at him without feeling embarrassed. "You're sixteen. These things are normal." His eyebrows rise. "You're supposed to feel horny all the time. It's just hormones." Then a smirk curls his lips and he looks a bit devilishly up at Ed. "As for the fact that it's about me, well… I can't blame you there."

Ed's eyes bug out. "Oh, great, you cocky shit," he chokes out. "If you fucking give me the sex talk, I swear—"

"I doubt you need the sex talk," Roy points out with another smirk. "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't feel ashamed about having wet dreams because they're normal."

Ed's ears redden. "Al heard me before," he blurts, hiding his face in the blanket. "Al heard me. It was so embarrassing— I thought— they wouldn't be as frequent since we- we started, um… you know… but… they are, and it's awful how I can't even control it, and I— I just… want to die of awkwardness now," he finishes miserably, avoiding Roy's eyes again.

"It doesn't really matter that Alphonse heard. He'd be in the same situation if he had his body. I'm sure he doesn't think anything of it."

"That's not the damn _point_," Ed grumbles. "It's just embarrassing, alright?" He turns on his heel. "I'm going to take a cold shower," he mutters, walking away. For a moment, Roy sighs and sits there. He can understand why Ed's embarrassed— hell, he remembers that one time he'd had a wet dream and Hughes had woken him up, howling with laughter— but he really wishes Ed understood that it doesn't make Roy think he's a pervert; if anything, it shows Roy how much of a pervert _he_ is for watching and listening and wanting to lend a helping hand, so to speak. He actually finds it to be quite adorable and sexy. He groans at himself, pressing a hand between his legs for a moment to get rid of the agonizing pressure, at least a little. He's _such_ a pervert.

He faintly hears the sound of the shower turning on and it only takes him a second to make his decision. Ed would probably screech at him again, but oh well. He gets to his feet and pads softly to the washroom, fumbling for a moment to open the door that seemed to have gotten stuck on the comforter when Ed had haphazardly discarded it on the floor, and walks in. "Hey, Ed?"

Ed's head pokes out from around the curtain. His bangs are plastered to his face already, and a dark flush dusts across his cheeks when he sees Roy standing there shamelessly nude. "What the hell do you want?" he demands.

"I was going to ask if you'd like a hand," Roy replies with a small smirk.

Ed looks a bit confused. "With?" Barely a second later, it dawns on him, and he turns such a dark red that Roy wonders if it's healthy. "Um, no," he says weakly. "I think I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Roy says. "Because I think I could use a hand with this." He raises his eyebrows and points down. Ed's eyes widen slightly and he stares for a moment, swallowing.

"Well, I, uh… I mean…"

Roy grins. "Well?"

"You— oh, damn it, fine," Ed says hotly. "But only this time."

"Don't lie. You're right in the middle of puberty." Roy looks smug. "And apparently sex isn't enough for you."

"I changed my mind. Fuck off."

But Roy is already getting into the shower. "Or I could fuck you," he suggests, lips quirking up.

"You're a fucking pervert."

"I know."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Frick I'm tired I don't even know if this sucked or not sorry**


	34. Movie Night

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Gosh, I'm sorry I've been gone for so long! This past week has been really, really busy. I barely had any time to write and even this was written really quickly in the truck on the way to Edmonton because I really wanted to freaking update. **

**Anyway, let's see Roy and Ed attempt to watch a horror movie.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Movie Night**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Did you _seriously_ just put chocolate chips in your popcorn, you idiot?"

Roy sniffed indignantly, shooting an exasperated Ed a reproachful look. "Don't knock it 'til you try it." He held up a piece of the gooey popcorn, pressing it to Ed's lips without warning. Ed jerked back, automatically flicked his tongue over his lips to get rid of the chocolate on them and grimaced, narrowing his eyes into golden slits.

"I don't want to try it. It's weird."

"It is _not_. It only makes sense to combine two things that taste good to create something that tastes even better." He waved a piece in front of Ed's grimacing face again.

"Will you shut up and watch the damn movie if I eat one? Sheesh."

Roy gave a honey-sweet smile. "Of course."

"Then fine." Ed parted his lips and allowed Roy to press a sticky sweet piece of popcorn between them. Ed's look turned from indignant to startled, and then a look of awe lit up his eyes. A smug grin curled Roy's lips as Ed swallowed it and even sucked on Roy's finger for a moment to lick off the chocolate.

"Okay," Ed said after a moment, shuffling closer to Roy. "Move that bowl over. I want some."

Roy let loose a snort. "See?"

"Shh." Ed popped another stringy chocolaty piece into his mouth, showing off the chewed bits with an obnoxious 'Blaahh' when Roy continued looking smug. A look of disgust came over the older man's face.

"Seriously, Ed? Grow up. You're twenty-one."

"I'm legal and I can do whatever the fuck I want," Ed replied, flicking Roy's nose. Ignoring the man's eyeroll, he picked up the remote and pointed it to the rickety old TV across the room, paused at the opening credits where he'd stopped it after Roy had suddenly decided he wanted popcorn. They both fell silent and cuddled under the blanket together, waiting for the movie to begin with the occasional murmur or peck on the lips.

The movie was rather bland until it started getting psychologically weird, and Ed found himself practically sat across Roy's lap and even Roy had his arms tighter around Ed than he usually would. "Fuck," Ed whispered, doing his best to pretend his voice wasn't all shaky. "Something moved in the room behind him."

"You could go through everything you have, but you can't watch this without freaking out?" Roy teased, but he didn't sound too happy either. Ed's sharp elbow in his side effectively shut him up, and he was about to snap something when a jumpscare popped up and he screeched, jumping right into Roy's arms.

"What the_ fuck_ was that!" he screamed, hiding his face in Roy's chest. He felt Roy shaking, and at first he thought it was in terror and was solaced by it, until he realized Roy was laughing. His head snapped up and he glared venomously at him.

"Cut me some slack, Edward, you just screamed like a little girl!"

"I'll make_ you_ scream like a little girl," Ed growled, swinging his metal leg and smashing it into Roy's kneecap. Roy made a slight squeaking sound, wincing a bit, and Ed grinned smugly at him.

"See?"

"That wasn't a scream," Roy pointed out, rubbing at his bruising knee with a glare.

"Close enough. I'll make you scream yet."

Roy's eyebrows rose, and a sideways smirk tugged at his lips. "Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really, you piece of— oh." Ed reddened a bit and snapped, "I meant in _terror_."

"I don't know, Ed, I kind of like the idea of you trying to make me scream in pleasure."

"I have before," Ed growled. His face felt hot enough to burn a hole into Roy's shirt.

"I remember," said Roy thoughtfully. "We should try that again sometime." His grin widened. "How about after the movie?"

"What?" Ed said in an oblivious voice. "Sorry, I can't hear you over this movie. You're wasting your time so you should probably shut up."

"So you can scream like a little girl again, am I right or am I right?"

"Fuck you, Roy, watch the movie."

Roy rolled his eyes but shut up nonetheless and it became silent between the two as they watched the horror. Ed kept grabbing handfuls of Roy's chocolate popcorn and stuffing his face full of it, and Roy was starting to become rather concerned that he'd run out before the movie ended, which he hated. Ed didn't seem to care though. He just kept eating. Roy wondered for a moment how someone so small could pack in so much food, but he decided to keep that to himself since Ed would probably rip out his esophagus if he asked. Actually, speaking of esophagi being ripped out, something similar was happening on screen. He wrinkled his nose. He might have seen a lot of gore in his life, but senseless slashing still made him a bit uneasy.

"Ew," Ed complained after a particularly unmanly screech, spitting out a kernel into his hand, tearing Roy's attention away from the gory scene. "I think this kernel freaking cracked my tooth." He prodded at his teeth with the tip of his tongue, glaring at the kernel with gold slits of eyes. "Rude. This kernel sucks."

"I feel like had this happened earlier in our relationship I would have been the butt of a joke in a moment here."

"Yeah, you sucked as a Colonel too. And you still suck as a Brigadier General."

"You suck regardless," Roy said.

Ed smirked. "Nice. Really great comeback."

"For fuck's sake, Edward, you were the one who wanted to watch the damn movie, so do it."

"Pfffft."

"Shut up."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I USED THIS ALMOST EXACT ENDING GAH I LACK CREATIVITY**


	35. Peachy

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Derp mornings in the Mustang household**

**Also if you read the last drabble before I fixed it you will notice that I used the same joke thing twice. That whole "If I wanted your comeback I would have wiped it off your chin" thing. I liked it better in this drabble so I just casually went and changed last chapter so that I didn't do it twice in a row. :D**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Peachy**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"You know what?"

"What?" Roy said boredly, shifting through the clothes in his drawer, trying to find something suitable to go out and do groceries in.

"Your clothes selection sucks major dick."

"That's appropriate," Roy replied flippantly. "You're a major and I suck your dick, so I don't see why my clothes should be any different."

Ed's cheeks heated up. "That— damn it, why do you turn everything into a sex joke, huh?"

"You brought up sucking dick. You're the instigator."

"Oh, suck my—" Ed stopped himself. "Shut up," he said instead.

"I don't think I will. If you have a problem with my clothes, why the hell don't you bring your own? I'm not your goddamned personal clothes rental. Plus, you're too damn tiny for any of—"

"Who are you calling so tiny he'd get lost in the folds of your clothes, you fucking fuck?" Ed screeched, chucking his hair brush at Roy from behind the closet door where he was apparently trying to find something to wear. Roy easily avoided it, sighing.

"No one said that."

"You were _totally_ thinking it."

"I hardly think I could come up with something so ridiculous."

"Your_ face_ is ridiculous."

"If I wanted my comeback, I would have wiped it off your chin last night, Edward."

Ed was affronted. "You ass! I can't believe— did you _honestly_ turn that into a blowjob joke too?"

"I sure did."

"You're fucking— god, you're so damn dirty sometimes." Ed tossed a few shirts over his head and completely disregarded them as they crumpled to the floor. He also ignored Roy's heavy, irritated glare at the mess he was making. "Jeez," Ed muttered. "Don't you have anything like a fucking T-shirt or something?"

"Not in my closet," Roy replied with great annoyance. "Here," he said, tossing a random one from his dresser drawer Ed's way. "Now get out of the damn closet and clean up that mess, or else you're grounded."

"Grounded?" Ed squawked, skipping out of the closet. "You can't ground me!"

"Clean up the damn mess, Ed."

"You can't ground me, you're not like, my dad or something! I don't fuck my dad!"

"And thank goodness for that. I'm already worried for your sanity and morality as it is."

Ed scurried back into the closet and glowered at Roy from the corner of the door. "Take that back, jerk."

"Why the hell are you in the closet again?"

"It's cozy in here. Not so bastardly. You aren't clouding it up with your bastardness."

"That's because I am very much not in the closet."

"Well no shit, you're so gay my gaydar goes off, like, at Rush Valley. It's just like, _ding_! Oh, that's Roy Mustang, rainbowing on down the road of glitter and fabulous."

"I'm fairly sure that's an exaggeration."

"Not at all." Ed finally exited the closet and pulled the shirt Roy had thrown at him over his messy blond hair. "It's like, I can feel it in my bones, you know?"

"I don't doubt it," Roy said dryly. "Not after how hard I fucked you into the mattress last night. How does your ass feel?"

Ed flipped both middle fingers up. "Peachy, thanks."

"Ah!" Roy exclaimed suddenly. "That's what it was."

Ed gave him a weird look. "What?"

"We need peaches."

"What? Why the hell do we need peaches?"

"I have this cake thing I want to make. I need peaches." Roy walked over and smacked Ed's butt softly. Ed yelped and shot him a glare, but Roy paid it no mind. "Thank you and your peachy ass for reminding me. Havoc would shoot me if I forgot to make it and bring him a piece."

"Havoc? Screw that, I get first dibs on a piece."

"But I promised him—"

"Well that's just too bad." Ed stepped over the pile of clothes that he very much did not pick up and looked amongst the clutter of Roy's floor for his leather pants. His nose wrinkled. "I really don't want to wear these. They're all nasty." He began rubbing at a spot with his flesh thumb. "Damn it, Roy!"

"What?" Roy asked defensively.

"There's fucking jizz on my pants!"

"And whose fault is that?"

"Um, yours? You fucking didn't let me take off my pants 'til—"

"Please. Learn to not come in three seconds."

"Three seconds my ass!" Ed screeched, throwing the soiled pants at his face. "Give me some goddamned sweats to borrow, you jerk!"

"My pants won't fit—"

"Don't give me none of that shit, I'll fucking make 'em fit." Ed held a hand out expectantly until Roy finally sighed and tossed him a pair. "See?" Ed said as he wriggled into them and pulled the string tight around his waist, tying it firmly into a bow at his pelvic bone. "Told you."

"They'll fall."

"Good thing this shirt is so damn big then." Ed started towards the door of the bedroom. "Are you done?"

"I've been a little busy catering to you, your highness," Roy responded sarcastically. He grabbed a dark cardigan and stuffed his arms into it before pulling a random pair of jeans on. At this point, he didn't really care if his clothes matched or not. Ed was still making a growling sound at the 'your highness comment' but Roy paid no mind and walked past him. "Are _you_ done?"

"Suck my dick," Ed retorted immediately, stomping after him.

"We've been over this. I will."

"Oh— just shut up. Come on. We've got groceries to do."

"Don't bring it up if you don't want me to make comments."

"I give up on you."

"Don't know why you ever tried."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: WHY CAN I NOT WRITE SHORT THINGS ANYMORE. THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE UNDER 300 WORDS. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.**


	36. Tangled

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I've started screaming "SHENANIGANS" and people when they piss me off, and then I usually start giggling because that word automatically makes me think of RoyEd now. **

**I'd like to throw in another thanks for all the reviews! You guys are too damn nice to me.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Tangled**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

Roy sat in his room, idly flipping through yesterday's newspaper and sipping at a lukewarm cup of coffee. He didn't have to go to work until this afternoon, so he was taking his free time to relax. Dressed in a pair of loose charcoal pyjama pants and a light gray T-shirt, he palmed the chipped pastel green mug in his left hand, absorbing the heat that had replaced that of the warm body that had been curled up next to him not five minutes ago. Ed had decided to stay the night again, and even though nothing more than a few lingering kisses had happened, he'd woken up declaring that he felt like he hadn't showered in months and left to the adjoined bathroom.

He could hear the steady stream of water spraying from the showerhead; the pitter patter as it hit the bottom of the tub, the splashes that fell from Ed's no doubt wonderfully naked body. Roy was very, very tempted to go and join him, but Ed didn't seem to be in the best of moods this morning, so he resisted. It was hard not to think about it, though. Aside from the water running in the next room, his house was relatively silent; the heater downstairs did its occasional clunk; every once in a while that one wall would creak; the sounds of Central City were a faint murmur in the background, drifting in through his slightly open window.

He finally tired of reading the same stories over again and sighed, letting the newspaper flutter down onto the dark blue sheets and getting to his feet. His room was a mess, like it always was whenever Ed stayed over for more than one night. He went around and picked up clothes scattered about, folding the clean ones and tossing the dirty ones into the laundry, finding Ed's tank top and leather pants tossed haphazardly near the foot of his bed. He stared at them for a moment, debating their state, until he finally tossed them in with the rest of his laundry and hauled it downstairs to the laundry room.

After tossing in a load, he dragged his feet to the kitchen— maybe if he made Ed breakfast he wouldn't be in such a bad mood. He doubted it, since Edward and mornings mixed as well as oil and water, but it was worth a shot. Plus, he liked cooking. He was kneeling at the Lazy Susan, searching for the jar of brown sugar he kept hidden so Ed wouldn't eat it all with buttered toast, when he heard Ed call his name.

"What?" he yelled in return, not quite ready to give up looking for the brown sugar. He shoved aside a couple cans of fruit and vegetables and finally spotted it. He was pulling it out when he heard Ed screech for him again. With a deep sigh, he set it on the granite countertop with a dull _thunk_ before heading back up the stairs. Couldn't Ed even _shower_ without his help? He was so incompetent sometimes.

_I swear_, Roy thought, taking the last few stairs quickly when Ed's panicked voice called for him again, _if he forgot a towel again, I'm going to smack him._

He pushed the bathroom door open and was immediately greeted with a sauna of steam. Blinking against the sudden humidity, he squinted into the vapour and said, "Edward?"

Ed's head poked out from the side of the striped curtain, his eyes wide and hysteric. Soap suds dripped down into his face and his bangs were plastered to his forehead and cheeks, water making a small puddle on the side of the tub as it dripped from his face. "Roy," he breathed, quieter now, but the panic was still there. "I need you to help me."

Puzzled, Roy walked into the bathroom. "With what?" he asked, tugging at his shirt. Did Ed _have_ to take such ridiculously hot showers? No wonder the bills always went up when he stayed over often.

Ed flushed. "It's— uh, well, I can't say it's never happened before, but, um— well, just come here."

Roy raised his eyebrows and walked to the shower, pulling open the curtain. A small part of him had been hoping Ed needed help with a certain _something_, but a quick glance at his soapy, naked body told Roy that the teen was genuinely freaking out and not just playing coy about getting laid. His gaze snapped back up to Ed's face, and he was about to ask again what was wrong, when he saw Ed's automail hand tangled hopelessly in his long, lathered hair. Realization dawned on him and he let out a short laugh.

"Really?"

"Shut up!" Ed said defensively. "I can't get it out and it hurts like hell!" He tugged frantically, wincing when a few hairs got yanked out and stayed caught in his knuckles. "Help meeee!" he wailed, grabbing at Roy's shirt with his free, wet arm.

"Relax," Roy said, chuckling again. "Pass me the conditioner, will you?"

Nodding, Ed did as he was told, holding out the simple white bottle. He watched with wide eyes as Roy squirted some conditioner onto his fingers. "What's that for?"

"It'll help get rid of the knot, so I can get it out of your hand."

"How do you even figure shit like that?"

"Well, Ed, there's this little thing called common sense most people have," Roy explained, reaching up to work at the snagged hair with his newly-slippery fingers. "I get why you didn't think of it, though. Don't worry."

"Oh, shut up," Ed grumbled half-heartedly. He grimaced when Roy tugged at a strand particularly hard, trying to unwind it from the knuckle, and added in a pained way, "I was trying hard to not rip my hair out. It's a bit hard to think rationally when you're in this situation, you know."

Roy snorted. "Right," he murmured, stepping closer to Ed to get better access to the top of his head. Due to Ed's height— or lack of it— it wasn't too hard, and at this angle, he had a clear view of the knot. He let out a low whistle. "Damn," he said, furrowing his brow in frustration for a moment. "I have no idea how you managed this one."

"What's it look like up there?" Ed asked.

"Like a rat's nest, that's what. How the hell did you manage to get it wrapped _inside_ the bolt holding your hand in place?"

"I don't know!" Ed wailed, automatically throwing his head back in frustration and letting out a squeak of pain when that in turn yanked his hair violently. "Gah, fuck!"

"Stop moving!" Roy ordered. "I can't do this if you don't stay still."

"Ow, _fuck_, _Roy, _that fucking _hur_— ow!"

"I'm sorry!"

"How about you _don't_ rip my hair out?"

"That's_ you_ doing that. I'm just untangling it." Roy finally managed to pull another strand free. "I almost have it— damn it, Ed, stay _still_."

"I'm trying!" Ed whined. "It hurts!"

"You've fucking been turned into a kabob falling down a mine shaft, in case you don't recall. You also lost limbs. I'm sure you can deal with this. You didn't even bitch this much when I took your virginity."

"Why the fuck would I bitch about that?" Ed griped.

"I don't know, maybe because it hurts?"

"Well, it didn't feel like you ripping my scalp off, and I was a bit lost in the heat of the moment," Ed said hotly. "Maybe if you did this while we were having sex it wouldn't be so bad."

Roy quirked an eyebrow at him. "Is that what you want?" he asked. "Because I'm all for that idea."

"What?" Ed snapped. He turned a furious red and swatted at Roy's chest with his free hand, leaving another wet mark on his shirt, which looked like a canvas of a blind artist who'd gone wild by now. It was a bit frustrating, working in damp clothes, and his hair was dripping too now from the water still spraying from the shower head. "No," Ed was grumbling. "I'd, like, rip my own hair out or something. I like to save that for you."

"Wow," Roy said. "Thanks."

Ed flashed a brilliant smile. "No problem."

Roy's eyebrows pushed together. "Hold on a sec," he said, hands retreating from Ed's head. Ed gave him a panicked look when he started walking away.

"Where the heck are you going?" he demanded. "Don't you dare leave me like this, you shit!"

"Relax, Ed." Roy sighed, digging through the top drawer until he finally found a pair of scissors. He started back towards the shower, but stopped upon seeing Ed's horrified expression. "What?"

"_No fucking way are you cutting my hair._"

"It's one strand," Roy countered. "It's either that or it stays stuck in your hand, and you walk around like that forever. I don't think Winry would like you destroying her automail with your hair, either." He raised his eyebrows, snipping the air next to his head. "Make your decision."

Ed looked terribly stuck, eyes wide and mouth gaping like a fish as he sputtered. "N-no— that, no way, you can't _cut_ my _hair_, Roy—"

"It won't even be noticeable. It's one of the bottom layers." Another snipping motion. "Well?"

After another moment of sputtering, Ed finally snapped, "Fine. But you'd better make it look like normal, or else I'm _so_ not talking to you forever."

Roy just rolled his eyes and brought the scissors up to Ed's head, ignoring the watery gold eyes staring pitifully up at him, and snipped the piece wrapped in Ed's hand. Ed was finally able to let his hand down and he let out something like a sob, grasping at his hair like he was afraid Roy had suddenly made him bald. "Can you tell?" he demanded.

"You're welcome," Roy replied sarcastically. "And no, you can't." He flicked the piece of wet hair from his fingers into the trashcan before taking Ed's automail hand and pulling the snagged hair free of the joint. "There. You can stop your emotional breakdown now."

"There was no emotional breakdown," Ed protested.

"Right, so you screaming my name in panic was my imagination?"

"Pssh." Ed retreated behind the curtain and Roy heard the water splash for a moment— no doubt Ed was finally rinsing the shampoo from his hair— before Ed finally poked his head back out and begrudgingly muttered, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it." Roy set his hand on the doorknob. "Do you still need me, or can I go?"

"I always _need_ you," Ed said with a honey-sweet smile, batting his eyeslashes. When he received a sigh in return, he rolled his eyes, lost the fake smile, and said, "Thanks, but I'm good."

"Alright," Roy turned as the curtain fluttered closed again. "Pancakes good?"

"Mm, sounds delish."

"Great." With that, Roy left the bathroom, cringing at how cool the hall felt compared to the bathroom. He was just getting to the stairs when he heard Ed call his name again. Rolling his eyes, he stormed back to the bathroom.

"_What_?" he demanded, throwing open the door.

Ed offered a sheepish grin from the side of the curtain. "Can you put in chocolate chips?"

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Proper ending what's that**


	37. Of Colds and Cuddly Bastards

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Doop-dee-doop who got a cold mid-summer oh me that's who (yes, **_**again**_**.)**

**Whatever though, my cold can suck a cock because oooooo shit I went to an anime convention and got ROY MUSTANG IGNITION GLOVES THAT'S RIGHT which I wore to type this up aw yiss. I got a bunch of other stuff too. All of it is FMA. This freakin' manga RUNS MY LIIIIIFEEE. *cries***

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Of colds and cuddly bastards**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"Roooy," Ed whined from the next room— the guest bedroom, where he'd ended up falling asleep last night only to not be able to properly get up the next morning. "I'm _hungrryyyy_," he droned in a stuffy voice, followed by a series of nasty coughs and then a long, "_Uuuuugh_."

Roy resisted the urge to screech at the top of his lungs. Instead, he patiently placed his book down, took a deep breath to calm himself, then called back, "What do you want me to do about it?"

"Get me a snack," Ed pouted. God, the patheticness just _oozed_ in his voice. Roy grit his teeth. Ed was the _worst_ when he was sick. Whinier and needier than a newborn baby, Roy _swore_.

"Can't you get one yourself? I'm trying to read."

"It's your fault I'm bedridden!"

"It's _my_ fault you decided to go out in the rain last week and get a cold? Right, I'm sorry, I completely forgot that I'm the one who decides the weather and makes all of your stupid-ass decisions."

"I mean it's your fault I can't walk and get it myself," Ed sniffed indignantly, his voice plugged and nasally. His cold was a particularly nasty one, and Roy almost felt bad. Almost. A teensy bit. "I told you I wasn't feeling well last night."

"Excuse _you_, Edward Elric, _you_ came onto _me_. I tried talking you out of it, but no dice."

"Tch, yeah, well, whatever, _you_ went along with it, and don't you _Edward Elric_ me, Roy Mustang."

"You're really making me want to get you a snack. Keep going, Ed, really. You're just charming me."

"Well exc_use_ me, princess." Ed cleared his throat, making a gross hacking sound that made Roy wince slightly. "If I ask nicely will you?"

"Possibly."

"Alright, will you _please_ get me something to eat?" Then, as an afterthought, he sarcastically added, "Darling."

"Not if you call me that."

"For fuck's sake, bastard, grab me some goddamned food."

"Fine," Roy sighed frustratedly and got to his feet. "What do you want?"

"I don't care," Ed replied. His voice sounded muffled, like maybe he'd curled up and brought the blankets up to his face. It was such an adorable image that Roy couldn't stay annoyed, not really. He wandered to the adjoined kitchen, tapping his fingers along the surface of the granite counter as he went. Ed only had a cold; there was nothing wrong with his stomach, but he was always a bit pickier about what he could force down when he was sick. After a moment of looking through his cupboards, he eventually pulled out a can of chicken noodle soup, pouring it into a pot and turning on an element on the stove to warm it up. While he was waiting, he walked to the guest bedroom.

"Chicken noodle soup," he said as he pushed the door open and strolled in. "Good?"

"Mmm," Ed hummed back. "Fantastic." His voice was adorably stuffy and Roy couldn't help but smile.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like shit, thanks for asking." Ed rolled over, pushing himself up on his metal arm to look at Roy. A wince shot through the boy's body, and Roy hurried over to help him, ignoring the muttered protests because it was obvious how achy Ed was. "Fuckin' stupid," Ed grumbled through grit teeth, clinging to Roy's side with tears beading in the corners of his eyes. "Feels like something's stabbing me from the inside."

Roy could sympathize; he didn't get a cold often, but when he did, he got the aches and pains bad. "I know," he said, gently propping Ed up with the many pillows scattered around him. He moved away slightly once Ed was upright, but Ed still didn't let go, clinging to his side like a little koala. Roy had to smile again; Ed might be a pain in the ass when he was sick, but he was clingy, too. And it was honestly quite adorable.

"Want a painkiller?"

"Just took cough medicine, gotta wait an hour," Ed muttered into his chest. He sounded drowsy.

"Don't fall asleep," Roy teased. "Weren't you the one bitching about being hungry?"

"I _am_ hungry," Ed sighed. "And I'm not falling asleep. You're warm and I'm _freezing._"

Roy raised an eyebrow. "You have four blankets on."

"I'm still cold." To prove it, Ed placed his flesh palm on Roy's cheek. "See."

"I'll grab you another blanket," Roy said, standing up. Ed's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"I don't need another blanket," he protested. "I need _you_. Stay."

Roy smiled again, turning his head to the side to hide it. "I'll come back," he promised. "There's soup on the stove. I should go check it. I'll bring it and another blanket and I'll sit with you for a bit, okay?"

"Okay," came Ed's stuffy voice, stifled by the blankets brought up to his nose. His tired gold eyes trailed on Roy as he got to his feet. "You better."

"I will, Ed," Roy said, chuckling. "Just relax."

After a drowsy reply in return, Roy left the room. By the time he returned to the kitchen, the soup was just beginning to boil, so he hastily poured it into a bowl and added an icecube to cool it. There was a soft 'clink' as he let the spoon drop onto the side of the bowl. Balancing it in his right hand, he carefully grabbed a blanket from the couch he'd been reading on earlier in his left and dragged it to the guestroom. Ed's eyes peeked at him from the top of the blanket.

"Hold on a second," Roy said, doing his best not to spill the soup. He put it down on the dresser by the door and spread the blanket on top of Ed's pile, helping Ed prop himself back up before grabbing the bowl and handing it to Ed's outstretched hands. "It might be hot," he warned, but Ed didn't seem to care and cradled the bowl to his chest, making a small humming sound of appreciation.

"I'm so cold," he whispered, a shiver shaking him suddenly as if to back it up. He fumbled and nearly dropped the soup all over himself, and he would have if Roy hadn't hastily caught the bowl before it could tip. "Sorry," Ed murmured. He gingerly sipped at it, sighing as warmth slid down his throat. "Thanks."

Roy got comfy next to him, doing his best not to jar Edward's already shaky hold on the bowl. "Don't mention it," he murmured, wrapping an arm around Ed's shoulders and gently pulling him closer. Ed melted into the embrace, a soft sigh leaving his lips.

"God, you're so warm," he sighed. He sipped at the soup again. "I think I'd probably die without you. Just become a human icicle and die."

"Don't say that," Roy said, "your temper is too hot for that to happen."

"Just when I thought you were gonna be sweet," Ed joked, supping the broth and grinning weakly up at him. Roy smiled back, rubbing the cold skin of Ed's flesh arm, hoping the friction might help warm him up. Ed curled closer until he was almost sat atop him, sipping at his soup with the spoon, sniffling occasionally. He was tense— the aches weren't going away at all, not even with the cough medicine he said he'd taken. Roy's heart felt heavy. He wished he could do something to help, but there wasn't much he _could_ do. Colds this time of year were nasty.

"Hey," Ed murmured when he finished his soup. The spoon clattered in the bowl as Roy took it from him and put it on the night table. "Don't feel bad," he said, cuddling closer. Roy eventually decided to just get under the blankets with him, so he did, feeling Ed's smile against his neck. They lay there like that, curled up together, as Ed sighed into his chest, "You're helping a lot more than you think."

"Still…"

"No, really." Ed looked up at him. "Just lying here with me is good enough. You're warm. And I don't think about how shitty I feel as much." He smiled again. "You're like a giant teddy bear."

Roy totally took it back— Ed _was_ annoying when he was sick, but he was annoying all the time. Apparently having a cold really just brought out Ed's sweet side. It was adorable. "Maybe you should have a cold more often," he said thoughtfully. "I think it's been a full fifteen minutes since you last insulted me."

"You're a bastard," Ed supplied, pressing his cold flesh toes and even colder metal ones against Roy's legs. A grin curled his lips when Roy hissed. "A cuddly bastard, though."

"I guess that's the best compliment I'll get."

"Unless you count lovable piece of shit."

"I think I'll stick to cuddly bastard."

"Good," Ed grinned. "I thought you'd like that one."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I WANT A LOVABLE PIECE OF SHIT ROY AWWW**

***LOL oops, had an awkward typo, thanks to the anon for pointing it out. XD "Couch medicine" LOL FUCK YOU KEYBOARD **


	38. What makes a home

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I realized that I write so many of my drabbles taking place at Roy's house but that I've never really given much insight as to how I picture it looking aside from a few random sentences. So, since I'm bored and stuck in the middle of the countryside of Alberta with no means of transportation to go anywhere and do something productive, I spent like, two hours yesterday drawing it out, and now I'm gonna write a little drabble thing from Ed's POV on it. **

**It's not concrete, though, sometimes I switch it up, and the spare room is on the second floor, or the living room looks different, or some shit. But this is how I **_**usually**_** picture it, more or less.**

**If you want to see my shitty-ass drawn floor plans, I put a link on my profile to a DeviantArt account I made for the sole purpose of posting those. I have this thing where I really like to picture settings in **_**everything**_** I read, so, I figured maybe some of you might like to see..? I don't fuckin' know lol. They're there if you want to see them.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: What makes a home**

**Rating: T but only because it's from Ed's POV and he's got a potty mouth.**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

His house isn't big. It's nothing grand, no fancy columns or elegant balconies, no expensive brick detail or rich, graceful trim— but it's cozy, and it's warm, and when I'm there, it's familiar and welcoming (even though sometimes I'm sure he wants to throw me out on the welcome mat and flick the bolt shut behind me) and it's home.

I'm not really sure how it came to be that way, but it is what it is, right? I guess I've just spent so much time there that I got used to it and sort of… became a part of it, so to speak. I haven't had a _real_ home for a long time, and I'll admit, I was a bit scared of allowing myself that familiarity, but it just happened without my even realizing it.

Looking at the front of the house, you would never guess that it's a place I'd ever settle down living. The siding is a light blue, the roof a simple gray, the front door white and wooden with a giant window smack in the middle of it. The house is right off the sidewalk, with a black, iron-wrought gate lining the front of the patchy green lawn, with a little gate that squeaks in the wind and screeches holy hell at you if you open it too far. There's a little path made of cement squares that goes in a L shape, straight down to the middle of the house, towards the bay window, then to the left to the front steps; one of the squares is cracked from the time we dropped the new dresser he ordered straight onto the corner or it. Needless to say, that dresser became material for his non-flame alchemy attempts, and he ended up just keeping his old mahogany one. The lawn is a mix between slightly overgrown grass (yeah, we're both lazy, so what?) and a garden, which Hawkeye and Fuery like to look after more than either of us, and random patches of flowers and the like dot the grass, products from Roy's practice with alchemy that isn't fire. It doesn't look the best, but hell, it's buttloads better than some of our fuckin' neighbors who I _swear_ haven't even mowed their lawns in like, a century.

In the wintertime, the front door has trouble opening, so you have to smash it inwards with your hip if you don't want to be stuck outside and freezing your ass off. Sometimes, on a particularly cold, frosty day, it'll even take both of us; whoever is inside the house will yank ferociously while whoever's got rotten luck and is stuck outside will continuously body slam it. It sucks, a lot, actually, but he refuses to fix the door hinges because according to him, it gives the house personality. A shitty fuckin' personality, if you ask me, but I guess I'm not the one paying the bills most of the time, so I never argue. Even though sometimes I'm really tempted to 'accidentally' ram the door into his head until he agrees.

The entryway is pretty simple. When you walk in, there's a little table where we put our keys and shit to the right, and a little flowerpot on it that's gotten knocked over more times than I can count, and a little mirror on the wall hanging above it. There's also a small picture frame of us, next to that flowerpot, but last time it got knocked over I left it like that because it was the one time I was forced to wear a military uniform and _gate_, I look all dignified and shit. Roy loves it, but it just makes me want to tear my hair out every time I look at it. Not my cup of tea, thanks. Anyway, to the right, there's a couple of hooks. One's rusting because I always throw my wet stuff onto it, and Roy's smacked the back of my head a couple times for that one, but I don't see him doing anything to fix it, so whatever. The ceiling here isn't quite a ceiling because it's underneath the stairs, but luckily we're both _yes both_ too short to hit our heads.

If you keep walking forward, and turn to the right, that's the living room. The floor everywhere is laminate wood, except in the kitchen, where it's dark charcoal tiles. Anyhow, when you're walking in to the living room, immediately to your left is a wall with stairs on the other side. Roy's work desk is shoved up against that wall, and for some stupid reason, I always _always_ hit my hip on whenever I walk into the living room. There's like, a permanent bruise. Roy laughs at me, but it's okay because he's the one to always smack his head on the cupboards in the kitchen. Suck on that, bastard. Right behind the desk is the couch, plush and soft and used, facing the giant bay window at the front of the house. There's a little table next to the far side of the couch, then a small, comfy ass chair sitting at a ninety degree angle from it. That chair, though, let me fucking tell you about it. It's so comfortable I've fallen asleep there like a _million_ times and I swear to fucking god or whatever that if Roy ever decides to get rid of it he can very well get rid of his sex life too because that goddamn chair is like, my _baby._ I'll skin him and use his entrails as Halloween decorations. I'm serious.

Anyway, in the middle of the room, there's a glass table, that's always littered with papers and made sticky with rings of coffee or hot chocolate from his shitty cracked mugs that I really love for some reason. In the far bottom left corner of the room there are two bookshelves, which I found out by accident have a secret stash of erotica novels behind a portrait of his foster mother. Disgraceful, I tell you, but somehow I don't really think Madame Christmas would mind. (The one time I met her, she gave me this once-over and then bluntly told Roy that if he hadn't fucked me yet, she was disowning him. Roy's face was priceless. I don't think I've ever laughed so hard.) There are alchemy books and history books and military books and romance books and _everything _books and various picture frames of himself, his crew, me (because hell, no one can resist me, I'm fuckin' adorable), and Hughes. I'm always extra careful not to knock those down, because I know how important they are.

The bay window has a little seat in it, big enough for two _and no we have totally not ever had sex there if you're wondering._ …Anyways there's this plaid red and green blanket that's always crumpled randomly on it, and cushions and pillows strewn about. It's a perfect place to curl up and read, especially when you light the fireplace right next to it. It's particularly nice in the winter, watching snow fall on the patchy lawn and sparkle in the faint sunlight that struggles past the clouds, snuggling in a blanket and reading a book with the fire keeping you even warmer. It's probably my favourite place in the whole world. Besides that chair. That chair is my baby.

The kitchen is adjoined directly with the living room; the only thing separating it is the counter. It's sort of like a bar, with two stools sitting at the living room side of the counter, which is where we usually eat, if we're not in the living room or our bedroom or whatever. There is, however, a little wall at the side of the room, opposite the fireplace, which hides a little cranny where the actual dining room is. We don't use it often, unless there's company, mostly because there's a window facing the front of the street in it, and sometimes our dinners turn into sex on the nearest surface, and, well… there are kids living in this neighborhood. Plus, there are only two of us, so it's stupid to use a big table like that.

Anyway, the rest of the kitchen is really simple, with cupboards that make an upside down, squared 'U' shape along the far east wall, with the sink at the very tip of the inverted 'U' and an oven and fridge on the side opposite the bar-thing where we eat. There's also a window, along that east wall, which I find incredibly pointless because it just points to the neighbor's house and is a bigger pain in the ass than it's worth, since it's always getting stuck when we try to open it. And it's always dirty. Maybe that's because Roy's always cooking, and he's not really neat while doing it. It's really annoying to clean.

Outside of the kitchen, in the same direction as the bar-counter-thing, there's a hall that leads to the bathroom, the laundry room and the spare room. I don't spend much time down there, except to do laundry and I'll pee there if it's really a huge emergency and I can't make it to the master bathroom. Al's stayed down in the spare room a few times, though, and he says it's nice enough, except that the mirror in there freaks him out because it reflects weird on the bed and he says it looks like there's something standing there, but Al's Al and he freaks out over stupid shit all the time.

Parallel to the bar-counter-thing are the stairs, which go in a sort of squared, sideways U 'til the top floor. There's one really annoying stair that makes a creepy groan if you step on it the wrong way so I usually skip that one because I have Roy groaning at me for being annoying often enough, I don't need any shit from a goddamn stair.

Upstairs is really simple; it's just a bathroom, a walk-in closet and the master bedroom. Like a little suite, just without the mini-kitchen, but I'm sure Roy's working on a way to get one up there. As soon as you get up the stairs, your only option is to turn left into the hall. At the end of it, there's a door, and that's where the bathroom is; it's a simple bathroom, with a tub and a shower, a stupid striped curtain that always makes me trip somehow, a big counter with a sink and a mirror, and a little adjoined room with a sliding door where the toilet and toilet paper is. It's kinda cute, but stupid, if you ask me, how the toilet is hiding in the master bathroom. Like, wow, okay, so we're banging and shit, but _god forbid_ we see each other _pee_. Insert horrified gasp and swoon here.

That's the bathroom. Back in the hall, if you take the door to the right instead of the one at the end, that's the master bedroom. Now, let me tell you something about this room— it's pretty big, right? It's spacious and majestic as fuck. But I always. _Always_. Hit that one creaky floorboard whenever I'm trying to sneak up on him. It's like it _moves_ just to follow me. And he always wakes up and sees me before I can jump on him and like, tickle him or some shit, and damn, that's just bullshit! It pisses me off!

Anyway, walking into the room, if you look to your right, there's a chair and a lamp and a bookshelf, which is another place where I spend a lot of my time. The bookshelf is set up against the slanted wall, which is like that because the chimney for the fireplace interrupts the room. I don't mind, though, and Roy doesn't either; it sets up the perfect cozy place for reading, and it also provides just enough space on the opposite side for a queen sized bed and a night table. And that _bed_. That bed is almost my baby as much as that chair downstairs. It's. So. Comfy. He's got his stupid flat pillows and I've got my fluffy, fat ones, and god, sometimes I just want to lie there and just ignore everything and make love to the pillows, screw Roy. And the blankets, fuck those blankets are beautiful. I don't use sheets, so I kick those to his side of the bed all the time, but then there's the fluffy light brown blanket and the dark blue-gray comforter on top of that, and those— Gate, it shouldn't be possible for something to be that comfortable and warm. Let's just say that.

There are two windows on the far east side, which, again, look out to the neighbor's house, directly into their upstairs bathroom, which is awkward. We usually keep the curtains shut, needless to say. Whatever architect or whatever designed these two houses obviously didn't think that through. He has another desk on that wall, too, and then the dresser next to the walk-in closet's door (there's just clothes in there, so I'm not really gonna elaborate on that) on the north wall, with a mirror, generally a mess of ties and papers and that glass bottle of cologne he wears sometimes (it smells so good I usually spritz some on my pillow, and he shall never know) and the occasional trinket one of us would receive as a gift. Also, picture frames. There are a lot of Hughes. It makes me sad, sometimes, to see his smiling face in so many photos, but it also makes me happy knowing that at least he's missed. There's one really cute picture, though, of Elysia, and when I asked, Roy just sighed and said, "Well, she's my god-daughter, and she really _is_ adorable." I think Hughes should be happy in the next life. Obviously some of his overly affectionate adoration of his daughter rubbed off.

And that's that. That's my home now, and even though it's nothing remarkable, it's special to me. After most of my life without a concrete home, I finally have one— and even with all its imperfections, quirks, and occasional shitty personality (front door, I'm talking to you), it's perfect. And Roy is just the candle on the otherwise beautifully-decorated chocolate cake; because all this warmth and comfort and familiarity stems from him, and this house wouldn't be quite like a home if he wasn't in it with me. It might not be fancy, or huge, or expensive— and fuck, who needs that, anyway?— but it's home. And that's all I need.

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I've been wanting to write this foreeeeever *falls over and twitches on floor* I'm sorry, I know it's not the same as usual, but I really, reallllyyyy like writing settings, it's like, my favourite thing aside from snarky/sappy dialogue. **

**So yup! If you guys want to see the layout for both floors, they're posted—the link is right at the top of my profile. And now you guys might have a better image in mind whenever I write a drabble in Roy's house as to what it looks like. :D *flutters about excitedly***

**SETTINGS FUCK YEAH**


	39. Sinister

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: OVER 500 REVIEWS HOLY SHIT I DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO LIVE ANYMORE HELP WHAT IS AIR THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH OMFG aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I love reading your reviews so much you all roooccccckkkkkkkk never stop living or else I'll hunt you down and revive you because I love you**

**/rant over**

**Someone mentioned this a while back in a review— something about a rumoured haunted supply closet where people heard moans that so totally completely one hundred percent are **_**not**_** the moans of Edward Elric taking it up the ass. I can't remember who left the review, but I decided to write this, so thanks to whoever mentioned it for giving me the idea.**

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**Title: Sinister**

**Rating: T+ for implication**

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The lights in the office were dimmed to a faint orange glow. The Mustang unit assembled around the desks they'd haphazardly shoved together into a makeshift table, making a circle around it and the flashlights they'd snagged from the supply room that pointed upwards and casted their shadows long and gloomy on the plain coloured walls. It was another boring, uneventful day, and with nothing to do, Havoc and Breda had whipped up one of their notorious plans to subdue the dullness; because after all, why _not_ sit around an improvised campfire in the middle of a work day and tell scary stories?

Breda sat at the end of the table, with Havoc next to him, then Fuery and an extremely reluctant Hawkeye, a dangerous glare on her face; she'd been forced into it since they'd decided to build the scrapped table centering her desk. Then there was Falman. Next to him was Alphonse, who sat awkwardly and tried not to bump into anyone in the closeness of the circle; then Ed, looking rather bored and as dismissive as usual; then, finally, on Breda's other side, Mustang sat with his arms folded, his mouth turned down crossly and eyes narrowed in mild annoyance. Breda had insisted they all hold hands, as if doing a spell over a pentagram, but after receiving a number of nasty glares— gold, black, and claret— he'd decided that wasn't necessary. And so here they were.

"This," said Roy, "is the stupidest thing we've ever done."

"I like to think this one was pretty creative and crafty," Havoc said, a hint of defensiveness in his voice. "I mean, look at how well we put the desks together, and those flashlights? Nice touch." He gave Breda a high-five.

"Do you two _morons_ know how much trouble we could get in if someone important walked in?" the Colonel hissed, unfolding his arms and sitting forward in his seat, glaring at the two to hammer his point down. "Do you know how much trouble _I_ could get in for allowing it? On business hours? I should tie you all to your chairs and force you to work."

"Kinky," Ed commented from next to him. He ignored the dirty look he got and shrugged. "All joking aside, I agree with Mustang. It's st—"

"Hold _up_," Breda said with an overly dramatic gasp. "You _agree_? With the _Colonel_?"

"Yes," Ed said coolly. "I also agree with him that you two are morons."

"That's so uncalled for and rude," Havoc said.

"The truth's a bitch, isn't it."

"All of you, shut up," Hawkeye spoke sharply before Breda could say the indignant comment he was opening his mouth for. "It's obvious you two are adamant on doing this, and yes, before you ask, I agree with Edward and the Colonel. You two are morons. But," she said, ignoring their sulks, "we already have this all set up. We might as well just do it. If someone important walks in, we'll say we are discussing something important that Edward can make up on the spot. Since he doesn't have any problems lying to us, I figure he won't have too much trouble lying to anyone else." A guilty look flitted over the blond alchemist's face when she said that. "Are we all clear?"

"Oooo," Havoc grinned a sleazy grin, his cigarette hanging limply on his bottom lip as he trailed blue eyes on Hawkeye's impassive face. "Gonna lie to the higher-ups? Feisty. I like that about you, Lieutenant."

Hawkeye's cool gaze fell on him and after a short moment, she said simply, "Thank-you."

Havoc continued grinning at her with imaginary sparkles and roses floating in the pinkish aura around him, and since he seemed too infatuated to do anything other than that, really, Fuery timidly spoke up, the flashlights glaring off the lenses of his thick glasses. "So what are we doing?" he asked. "Telling scary stories?"

The shadows played on Falman's sharp face as he frowned. "I don't have any, nothing besides the haunted Warehouse 13, which we've been through already."

"Make something up!" Breda enthused . "I'm sure you've got an imagination."

"But—"

"I still think this is ridiculous," Roy said tersely.

"Yeah, is this like, camp or something?" Ed added. "Like oooooo, scary ghost stories!" He wriggled his fingers and made ghost sounds, gold eyes bright in the harsh flashlight glare. They seemed to glow, adding to his eerie ghost imitation. "Let's all curl up in our sleeping bags now and hide from monsters under the blankets."

"I think it'll be fun," Al finally piped up, managing to get a word in for the first time. "I mean, it's just to kill boredom, right? Why not? It's not like you guys have much else to do."

"There are papers to be reviewed, and filed, and—"

"Yes, I agree with the Lieutenant," Roy said before Hawkeye could finish the long list of things they actually had to do at some point today. He got a bunch of weirded out stares in return. "What?" he demanded.

"_You_ agreeing that paperwork is better than this? _You_? Really, Chief?" Breda snorted. "Someone call Mustang a doctor. First he's agreeing with Fullmetal now he wants to do _paperwork_."

"Of course I don't want to do paperwork," Roy said irately. "I'm just not big on the idea of being discovered telling stupid stories with my unit on _working hours_."

"What_ever_." Havoc finally snapped out of his dreamy staring at Hawkeye, and straightened his back, regarding them all with a sturdy blue gaze. "Since everyone's getting their panties in a bunch, let's make it just one story each. Then we can go back to doing work. Like Riza said, we already have it all set up, so we might as well, right? Plus, I'm so bored, my eyeballs are gonna turn to goo and ooze everywhere if we don't do something." He raised his eyebrows. "We good?"

There was a collective sigh, with murmured 'fine's and 'okay's.

Breda started. "Okay, so, did you guys ever hear of the haunted house down on sixty-sixth street?"

"I've heard rumours," Fuery chimed in. Everyone else sat in silence, so Breda went on:

"So, like, they say that a family was murdered there years ago— a woman discovered her husband cheating, and instead of acting like a rational person and confronting him, she pretended everything was all good and then stabbed him to death, before doing the same to her kids. Some say that you can still hear the tortured screams and cries of the children as she kills them when you walk past it during the night. And get this. It's on sixty-sixth street, right? Well, it's the sixth house on the street." He paused for dramatic effect, before intoning lowly, "Six hundred and sixty six. Some creepy demon shit is going on there, I'm telling you."

"Cliché as hell," Ed said boredly. "There's like, eighty books with that same plotline." He looked up at Al. "Didn't you just read one the other day?" Al nodded, and Ed looked back to Breda. "Point proven. That's the most over-used horror ever."

"It's different when it's in the town you live in!" Breda protested. Ed just rolled his eyes.

"Good try," Al said in a half-assed attempt to soften Ed's blatant unimpressed air.

Havoc grinned. "Alright, my turn."

And so they went on like that, each telling their own spooky stories; Havoc, then Fuery, then Hawkeye, until it was Falman's turn and he started on a story that actually seemed to catch Ed's attention.

"I thought I didn't have any stories, but I just remembered something. There's this one closet," he said in a hesitant voice. "I never really believed it. To be honest, I was always a bit sceptic about the whole haunted-ghost-supernatural kind of stuff. But I heard it." He paused, looking genuinely chilled. The staff fell silent, focusing on him with curious eyes; even Edward and Roy, who had been fidgeting next to each other for the past little while and looking generally bored and like they didn't want to be there.

After another moment, Falman continued, a crease appearing between thin eyebrows, "It was after-hours; I had stayed behind to file the last few documents I didn't have enough time for during my shift. There wasn't anyone around, which I guess wasn't all that unusual, but I had to walk past that closet to leave." He paused again, a troubled look coming across his face. "Whether you want to believe it or not, I heard sounds coming from that closet. Like… muffled screams, I guess, like someone was gagged and being tortured."

Ed paled. "Ehh… wait… are you talking about the closet that's just down the hall?"

"Yeah," Falman said, a bit surprised. "I'm surprised you knew about it. It's not exactly a huge thing around here. Only a few people know it's haunted."

Havoc leered at the blond, whose eyes were so wide they might have fallen out if they weren't attached to his brain. "You scared?" he taunted.

Ed didn't respond, staring down at his lap with huge eyes and a bright red face. Everyone stared for a moment. Roy suddenly stiffened.

"Oh," he said, like everything was abruptly clear.

Ed bit his lip, reddening further. "Yeah."

Falman looked between them, confused. "Do you know something I don't?"

"No!" they said at the same time. Roy cleared his throat to break the suddenly awkward tension between the two, and added, "We just… we heard it too," he fibbed. Ed chewed on his lip, and hoped that no one else could tell that Roy was lying through his teeth. Luckily, the Colonel was an excellent liar. "It was a couple days ago, right?"

Falman nodded. "You must have heard the same thing I did, then."

"Yeah," Ed said weakly. "I think we did."

"Creepy stuff, eh?"

"Oh yeah," Ed muttered under his breath. "Reaaal creepy."

Al tittered. "Ed… I thought you didn't believe in ghosts."

"I do now."

"Did it sound something like this?" Roy asked, slapping a hand over Ed's mouth and jabbing the blond in the side with his fingers. Ed made a gasping sound, which was muffled by Roy's hand, and glared gold daggers the Colonel's way. Falman was nodding excitedly.

"Yeah, exactly like that!"

"_Mmffmffrr_—" Ed tried to say, but Roy's hand was still firmly across his mouth, so he wrenched it away and hissed, "You _bastard_, don't touch me!"

"Sorry," Roy replied, even though he wasn't really. This afternoon had suddenly gotten a lot more interesting, and he couldn't quite stop smirking. Especially since Ed couldn't quite stop blushing. "So," he said conversationally like Ed wasn't secretly plotting his gruesome and painful demise, "what do you suppose happened in there?"

"Dunno," Falman shrugged. "Maybe a murder?"

"Maybe someone knew something they shouldn't," Breda spoke up. "And they were punished for it, so they wouldn't talk."

"Was it loud?" Roy asked. He hoped no one could tell he was laughing like a maniac inside. Ed practically glared holes into the side of his head.

"Maybe we should stop," Havoc said with a smirk, noticing Ed's glare. "Looks like we're scaring Ed."

"I'm not scared," Ed snarled.

"It was really loud," Falman said, ignoring them. "I actually tried to open the door and see— curiosity, you know— but it was locked, and I couldn't find the keys. But it just kept getting louder and louder and more desperate." He looked truly troubled. "I think I heard someone get murdered."

"Maybe we should look into this," Roy said. "Find out what happened. Was it male?"

"Definitely. Kinda sounded like Ed, a bit, actually," Falman mused. Ed looked absolutely horrified. Falman noticed and quickly said, "Oh, don't worry, Edward, I know it had nothing to do with you. it couldn't, right? You're still alive, and anyway, I can't really imagine you screaming like that."

Ed swallowed hard. "Right," he said weakly. Roy snickered. Ed kicked him under the table.

"You know what we should do?" Breda spoke up suddenly. "We should all stay after hours tonight. 'Til it gets dark and stuff. We can listen out for it! Wouldn't that be creepy as heck?"

The rest of the staff quickly dissolved into excited whispers and planning, and even Al seemed thrilled about the prospect of a spirit that wasn't himself. Hawkeye, though, was staring directly at Ed and Roy.

"So," she said coolly, a knowing smirk on her lips. "A ghost in the supply closet, huh?"

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: What is conclusion how come I do not do it **

**Oh well, whatever, no one has complained yet so I guess I'll just continue with my derp conclusions in this drabble series**


	40. The Joys of Puberty and Hormones

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Oh gosh some of the reviews you guys leave make me frickin' giggle like a little schoolgirl…**

**Also I do love me some awkward puberty-addled Edward so let's have another dose of that shall we**

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**Title: The Joys of Puberty and Hormones**

**Rating: T+ for all da sexual themes.**

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Roy was nearly asleep when he heard Ed mutter a particularly nasty curse under his breath. He rolled over, blinking his heavy eyelids open. Ed was lying on his back, his arms tucked behind his head, glaring at the window through which a silvery sliver of moonlight shone through. Roy's eyebrows furrowed.

"Shut the curtains if it's bothering you."

Ed jumped. "Jeez," he said exasperatedly, hand clawing at the spot where his heart would be. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was. Almost, anyway," Roy clarified. He pushed himself up on his elbows and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Ed sighed. "I just can't sleep. Can't get comfortable, you know? And I'm kinda cold."

"Oh." Roy paused. "You know, if you want to cuddle, just come out and say it."

Ed's face reddened visibly even in the darkness of the room. "I wasn't saying that," he muttered, looking to the side so that his profile was outlined in the faint light.

"Right," Roy said dryly, observing how Ed sucked his bottom lip in— a habit he did when he was a) nervous; b) backed into a tight spot; or c) lying. It seemed to be the latter if Ed's flush was anything to go by. "Well," he said, turning onto his stomach and burying his face in his pillow to hide a smile, "if you want to, I'm always up to it."

Ed's eyeroll was practically audible. "Right," he mumbled in response, voice hot with embarrassment that Roy could see right through him. It fell silent again, a faint breeze rustling the curtains. Roy could feel Ed moving around, trying to find a comfortable spot, but it seemed like he wasn't having too much luck. He heard Ed grumble dark things to himself and grinned into the pillow, trying hard not to snicker. Ed was a foul-mouthed little shit even when he was bone tired.

After a while of tossing and turning, Ed's voice broke the night silence again. "Roy?" he said timidly. "You still awake?"

Roy had been listening to Ed's struggles with a fair bit of amusement, but he didn't want his timebomb of a lover knowing that, so he made his voice sound rough with sleep. "Now I am."

Ed hesitated. Eventually, he murmured, "Sorry."

"Don't be." Roy was trying so damn hard not to smile. Ed sounded so disgruntled and frustrated and Roy could tell he was struggling with his stubbornness to give in and say he wanted to snuggle. "Still can't sleep?"

"It's fuckin' freezing in here."

"I said to close the window if it was bothering you."

"It's the middle of the summer, dumbass, it's hotter out there than it is in here." Still, Ed got to his feet. Roy could hear the unevenness of his mismatched feet padding across the carpet, and the thunk of the window sliding shut. Ed hobbled back to the bed and crawled back under the blankets, accidentally touching Roy's calf with his flesh toes. Roy jolted.

"Damn, Ed," he hissed, jerking his leg away. "You're cold!"

"I told you!" Ed replied, irritated. "Don't you have any extra blankets or something?"

"There are some downstairs. Why don't you try putting on more clothes?" Roy suggested, not entirely willing to get up and go downstairs and grab the blankets stashed in his laundry room. Ed shivered as if to prove Roy's point that sleeping in nothing but boxers and a muscle shirt and bitching about coldness was a ridiculous combination that could easily be avoided.

"Like what?"

"I have sweatpants," Roy reminded him. "And sweaters."

"Yeah, that are like eight sizes too big for me."

Roy frowned indignantly. "Two sizes, actually, and don't blame me for the fact that you're vertically challenged."

Ed swatted at his arm. "I'm too tired for this crap," he muttered, shuddering again. "Can you go grab the blanket?"

"Ugh, Ed…"

"Please?"

It was the please that did Roy in. "Fine," he sighed. "I don't get why you don't just let me hold you. I'm warm." Ed's face reddened so suddenly that Roy felt the need to add dryly, "Keep blushing like that and you'll heat up the room enough for the both of us."

"Shut up!" Ed snapped. "I'm not— it only looks bad 'cause of the weird light from the window!"

Roy rolled his eyes. He was fully awake by now, so he sat up, crossing his legs and turning to face Ed. "Alright," he said seriously. "What the hell is your problem that you can't just move closer to me? Body heat will work better than any blanket will, and I don't fucking have a disease or something."

"I know," Ed replied, a bit snarkier than necessary. His biting tone only served to amuse Roy further; he knew Ed pretty damn well, and it was obvious he was hiding something.

"Well?" Roy said, somewhat impatiently. "What's the deal, then?"

Ed stared very intently at the comforter. "I can't… cuddle you." His face reddened impossibly.

Roy looked at him curiously. "Why not?"

"It's… I…" Ed trailed off into mumbles, nervously fiddling with a loose screw in his metal hand. Roy was vaguely thinking about how he really needed to get Winry to fix that when Ed took in a shaky breath and shamefacedly coughed out, "I kind of… lately… I've been having… you know…" He looked away, face so hot that Roy had no doubt Ed didn't need that blanket anymore. "Sometimes… I have… wet dreams," he finally whispered shamefully, hiding behind his bangs.

Roy couldn't help it— he snickered, quickly slapping a hand to his mouth to prevent it from becoming full-blown laughter. Ed's head whipped around to shoot him a glare so quickly Roy thought he'd given himself whiplash.

"It's not _funny_," Ed hissed, voice not unlike a swarm of demons all screeching in unison. His cheeks, his ears, and his neck were all red, and Roy couldn't quite bite down the huge grin he felt forming on his face. Ed's eyes may very well have been shooting daggers from the sheer amount of homicidal intent in them.

"It's hilarious," Roy countered. Ed's face was so red he felt a bit bad about laughing and instead pulled the blond in for a hug, grin broadening when Ed half-heartedly squirmed and pushed against his chest. "I was a teenager once, in case you don't remember," Roy reminded him, petting the length of Ed's hair to soothe his embarrassment. Ed's face practically burnt a hole into his chest, it was so hot. "Puberty is the worst."

"Tell me about it," Ed whispered hotly. "I'm fucking always horny and I fucking get a _boner_ at the _worst_ times, Roy, I got fucking _hard_ for no reason while I was talking to someone on my last mission! It just happened randomly!" His voice was high with hysteria and Roy was trying so, so hard not to piss himself because Ed sounded so stressed out and disturbed. Ed was the type of person who studied everything and knew how to predict the outcome of things, and how they would happen— but puberty was a whole different story because his body did whatever it wanted, when it wanted, and there was no pattern for Ed to find and follow. That probably bothered him more than anything. Ed was still ranting on in panic into his chest. "And Al doesn't sleep, so he's up all night while I'm sleeping, and sometimes I wake up and I fucking have _a boner_, or worse, _jizz_ everywhere and he won't be there but then the next morning it's so _awkward_ and please just kill me," he finished miserably.

Roy didn't really know how to comfort Ed, because puberty was disastrous puberty and adolescence was a bitch. Swallowing down another snigger, he finally said, "Well, Ed, there's not much you can do about that. It's just your hormones and they'll keep on being assholes for no reason until you're well into your twenties, probably. But I usually found masturbating before bed helped avoid the wet dreams."

Ed was gawking at him in all his red-faced horror. "I— I never— no, I don't —" he stuttered out pathetically.

"Give me a break, Ed, we all do it, and like I said, I _was_ a teenager." Roy smirked when Ed continued looking absolutely panicked. "Come on," he teased. "You can't honestly tell me you don't."

"This isn't happening," Ed said weakly. "This is _not_ happening."

Roy thought he should probably quit teasing, since Ed looked like he might faint of mortification anytime soon. "Edward," he said seriously, forcing eye contact. Ed looked so miserable Roy couldn't help but pull him closer. "Look, I know what you're going through. I went through it too, and it's embarrassing as hell, but it's life. If you have a wet dream, you have a wet dream, and it's normal. I don't mind." Then, the wicked part of him _had_ to add, "In fact, I encourage it."

"_Roy_!"

"Seriously, though."

"I don't— it's— it's not, I can't— it's too embarrassing," Ed stuttered out. "If I… have… while I'm close to you, then…"

"Ed," Roy interrupted the tirade flatly. "It's not like I've never seen you have an orgasm."

That was it— Ed was at the end of the line of his embarrassment. Letting out a wail of ultimate humiliation, he yanked the blankets over his head, curling up into a ball and screeching all sorts of colourful curses into the comforter. Roy had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. God, he felt so bad about it, but it was so freaking _funny_. Of course Ed would be one of the kids that violently rebelled against everything that came in the package deal of teenage years. After taking a few moments to compose himself and snuff out any laughter, Roy tugged the blanket off of Ed, his heart doing a pathetic little twitch of pity. He was _so_ glad puberty was done and over with.

"I'm sorry," he said, and he really was. "If you're really that embarrassed about it, we can forget the cuddling and I'll go grab the other blanket, alright?"

Ed's eyes peeked up at him through a mess of blond hair and red-skinned shame. "Sorry," he whispered glumly. "It's not— that I don't want to, it's just…"

"I get it." Roy swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I don't blame you, either. I just want you to know that I'm honestly not judging you in any way. Seriously. If I notice it happening, I'll even leave the room, if you want."

Ed sat up on his elbows. "You don't have to do that," he said quietly, eyes not quite meeting Roy's. "I think… um… if you… you could just wake me up."

Roy's eyebrows raised. "Wake you up in the middle of a sex dream? I'd feel like a cockblock."

"They're all about you anyway!" Ed growled, clearly frustrated. Then he turned beet red again at the confession, turning his head to the side and quickly saying, "Just wake me up, alright? I'd rather be conscious and— and come, than— than while I'm asleep."

Roy's eyebrows went up further at Ed's implication, and he couldn't quite stop from grinning. "Am I looking too much into this or was that an invitation?" he asked, watching with barely-repressed amusement as Ed squirmed and fidgeted.

"_Yes_," Ed finally spat. "It was a fucking invitation, okay?

Roy wiggled his eyebrows. "A _fucking_ invitation? I like the sound of that."

Ed grabbed his pillow and whacked him with it twice, then once more for good measure. He seemed absolutely miffed by Roy's poorly-suppressed mirth. "You," he said with venom dripping from his words, "are a fucking _asshole_."

Grinning, Roy slid back under the blankets. Ed didn't move from where he was still poised with the pillow ready to strike, and he watched Roy with wary gold eyes as the man's grin broadened and he held an arm out in an offer of a hug. Ed's glare morphed into a pout.

"I said I'm not cuddling."

"Come on," Roy said, smirking now. "You just said that if you have a wet dream, I get to wake you up and make it real. What's the difference if you're over there or over here when it happens? Either way, I'm going to end up fucking you into the mattress."

Ed's bottom lip pushed out and he scowled sullenly. "I'm not giving in." Then, when Roy did silly, suggestive eyebrow movements, his lips twitched and he smacked him with the pillow again, trying his hardest not to smile. "No!"

"You know you want to," Roy replied mischievously.

"You— ugh, you're a fuckin' pervert!" But Ed was fighting a losing battle, and he was soon grinning like a moron too. He half-heartedly beat Roy's head with the pillow, grin turning a bit devilish when Roy made a particularly unmanly sound. "Fine!" Ed finally said with a huge, dramatic sigh. He flopped onto the bed, finally giving in and snuggling into Roy's waiting arms. "I freakin' hate you sometimes," he grumbled, but it was half-assed and Roy could still feel Ed's grin on his neck.

"I'm sure you do," Roy murmured back with an equal amount of coyness to Ed's snark. "But at least you won't be cold now."

"This is not even about that anymore," Ed retorted. "You're just a pervert who wants to get into my pants."

"You're just a pervert who _dreams_ about getting into mine."

Ed's fingers dug threateningly into the skin between his legs. Roy would have flinched at the proximity of the talon-like metal fingers to his crotch, but he knew Ed was too soft to _actually_ cause him any sort of traumatizing pain, so instead he just snickered.

"Watch it," Ed warned. "The couch treatment is in your imminent future if you don't shut up."

"You can't kick me out of my own bed."

"I'll do what I want."

"If you kicked me out of my bed, who'd be there to make your wet dreams _about me_ come true?"

"Are you asking me to kill you? Is that what this is? You're actually suicidal, aren't you."

"Of course not," Roy replied flippantly. "If I was dead I wouldn't be able to—"

"For fuck's sake, Roy, shut _up_."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: PACK YER BAGS KID WE'RE GOING ON A TRIP CALLED MISERABLE ADOLESCENCE**


	41. Switch 4

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: All of you during Switch 3 were like, oooh Roy/Al hints and I was going to firmly deny it but fuck that I was totally hinting at it you little devils caught me. *goes to timeout corner for implying Roy/Al in a Roy/Ed fic***

**Umm, another thing, apparently for some reason my brain derped while writing this one because I kept trying to write in present tense. I tried to fix all the times I slipped up but if it starts changing tenses I'm sorry and just… ignore it… **

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: Switch 4**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

A while later, the front door opened and Roy could tell from the tired footsteps thumping towards the living room that it was Edward. From a quick glance at the window, he deduced that it was night— the moon was out and the faint radiance of Central's lights was a hazy glow in the distance. Ed had been gone for a long time; today must have been a long work day. Roy couldn't remember his schedule for the life of him. He was way too stressed for that.

Alphonse looked up first, pushing up the reading glasses he'd put on some time ago, stilling the pen he'd been tapping incessantly against the edge of Roy's coffee table. Roy was in the middle of writing a sentence and he wanted to get it down before he lost his train of thought, so he heard more than saw his own body walk exhaustedly into the living room and flop down onto the couch behind where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor across from Alphonse.

"Tired?" Al piped up, a glint of sarcasm in his dark honey eyes. Roy heard Ed scoff, and he could easily imagine the dirty look he was shooting his younger brother.

"I fuckin' have no clue how you deal with that shit all day," Ed sighed, lying down and wrapping his arms loosely around Roy's shoulders. Roy finally finished the sentence and let the pen fall, returning Ed's backwards embrace as well as he could in his current position.

"Welcome to my world," Roy muttered. "You're welcome to stay. I don't mind not having to do paperwork."

"I'd rather gouge my eyes out with sporks than do another day of that, thanks."

"About that," Al said quietly. "There's something Mustang and I thought of."

"Oh for fuck's sake, Al, call him Roy. I've been fucking him for five years now; I really think it's time you move past the formalities," Ed sighed tiredly. His eyes were shut and he was oblivious to the bright red flush that spread across the youngest Elric's face, so Roy shot an apologetic look Al's way, ignoring Ed's dark mutterings about paperwork.

"Call me whatever you want," Roy assured him. "Also, I'm sure you've learnt to ignore your brother when he says something stupid, so I advise doing that now."

"It's hard to unsee things," Al said under his breath, glaring at them (mostly his half-asleep brother who was _definitely_ not used to the added height, if the way he kept adjusting Roy's legs on the couch meant anything) as apparently horrifying memories surfaced. He cleared his throat, his face returning to its usual smiling and placid state, and said, "_Anyway_, Ed, it's going to take a bit longer to get you two back in your right bodies."

Ed shot up. His eyes, currently black and narrow, widened hugely until Roy was very concerned they might pop out of his skull, which wasn't an idea he was really all that keen on. He wished Al had broken it to Ed a bit gentler.

"What?" Ed whispered, voice hollow.

Al nodded grimly. "Yeah."

"How long?"

"A week or two, depending on how often we work on the notes." Al looked troubled again, as per the apparent norm for this situation. "I thought, at the beginning of this all, that it'd be easier than that, that it wouldn't take that long, but looking at this for _real_," he gestured to the notes all over the table, "I can tell it'll take a while for me to get it."

"Why can't Roy do it?" Ed snapped, obviously without thinking.

"Gee," Roy said, letting sarcasm make just the slightest bite to his words, "let me use my tiny brain to think about that one."

Ed smacked at his arm, a warning growl low in his throat. "Shut up, old man. I feel gray hairs sprouting."

"You— watch it, Edward, I know my sensitive spots and I'm not afraid to hurt them while you're in me."

"Ooooooo, you kinky bastard."

"Guys," Al interrupted exasperatedly. "Look, I get the whole sexually frustrated situation between you two— really, I do. But please, can we focus?"

Roy had the decency to mutter an apology, but Ed just grumbled into his collar before sinking back onto the couch and letting out a long, depressed sigh. "You know what this means?" he said in a tired voice. "More paperwork. And more Hawkeye pointing her gun at me." His voice shook. "I don't know if I can handle another _hour_ of that."

Roy wrinkled his nose at how particularly whiny his voice sounded. "You get used to it."

"I'm tearing up. I'm actually tearing up."

"And all those years you said you'd have no problem doing my job and that I was a wuss for whining so much. Now you know."

"I'm sorry," Ed wailed, hugging him backwards again. "I'm _soooorryyy_—"

Roy had to snicker. "Karma is getting you now, so I couldn't possibly care less." He turned on the floor so his legs were stretched out beside the couch instead of under the coffee table. "Alphonse and I decided we'd come to work with you every day and work on the notes then. That way I can help you if you need any help being me, and we'll be closer to the library in case we need access to anything there, although I doubt we will. With the added time I don't think it will take much longer than a week, maybe a week and a half tops."

Ed swallowed. "Can I just hurl myself off a bridge?"

"You most certainly may not," Roy said. "I like my body alive, and not decomposing in a river."

"You're right. I'd have to resort to necrophilia to get any, and that ain't my cup of tea, thanks."

They dissolved into bickering, bantering between each other in that affectionate way they did, until Al finally had it in him to warily interrupt, "Guys, it's late. Maybe we should get some sleep."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm exhausted," Ed replied with a yawn as though he wasn't just tugging Roy's currently blonde and long hair and calling him a shit-brained fuckhead for no apparent reason. They all stood up on wary feet and Al started for the door, opening his mouth to call out a good-bye for the night when Ed said, "Hey, Al, you might as well just stay the night."

Al froze. "What? Why?"

"Because it's late and our apartment is forever away. Just take the guest room. Roy doesn't care." Ed glanced at him. "Right?"

Roy shrugged and wandered off towards the stairs. Ed nodded and looked back to Al. "Yep, you're staying."

"I don't want to be a burden—"

"You won't!" Ed insisted. "Come on, Al, you're way too tired to drive home. I can tell."

"Fine," Al finally relented. "The guest bedroom is down that hall?"

"Yeah, on your left."

"Okay. 'Night." With that, Al wandered off to the guest room. Apparently he was too tired to argue anymore.

"Goodnight," Ed called after him before hurrying to catch up with Roy, who was stumbling up the stairs and cursing when Ed got there. He raised an eyebrow. "What are you doing?"

"I'm not used to walking with automail," Roy muttered, rubbing at his right knee, which he seemed to have banged on the stairs.

Ed offered a hand. "It's tricky, but you'll get used to it."

They walked the rest of the way upstairs together, silently and fluidly falling into the nightly pattern of getting ready for bed. Roy finished brushing his teeth first and headed to their room, nodding as Ed muttered something about using the washroom. He slid out of his clothes and tried— and failed— to resist looking in the mirror. Just a glance, he told himself, even as he felt his cheeks heat up in half-embarrassment, half-anticipation. He'd left the bedroom light off, so all he had was the dim light from the hall, bathing a portion of the room in a faded yellowish glow. It seemed to bring out the gold in Ed; his eyes, his hair, his skin, all of it seemed to glow a luminescent gold that made his throat feel dry. Ed looked absolutely enthralling in the weak light and it was a sight Roy had come to appreciate over the years. For a moment, he stood there staring, until he finally had it in him to look away since Ed would probably have a fit if he walked in on Roy checking his naked body out.

A bit unnerved by how his blood was pounding through his veins, and how his—Ed's— tummy vibrated in a warm, pleasant hum, he turned his back to the mirror and crawled under the blankets. His eyes slid shut and he did his best to calm down. Even if Ed was his lover, he had no right to take advantage of his body like this, and so he could. Not. Touch.

But _god,_ he wanted to. As freaky as it was, he was starting to think he _needed_ to.

Ed still hadn't come in from the bathroom, and it had to have been at least ten minutes since Roy had forced himself away from the mirror. He frowned, sitting up, jumping when he felt Ed's hair brush his back, then relaxing and feeling like a moron the second later. "Ed?" he called, shoving the blankets off. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and was about to call again but Ed interrupted him.

"Yeah," was the hasty reply.

"Are you coming to bed, or are you gonna sleep in the bathroom?"

"I-I'm coming."

Roy paused. A stutter. Which Ed generally did when he was nervous about something. "Okay," he said, drawing the word out long and sceptical. He stood up and padded out of the room and to the bathroom. He pushed the door open. "Are you alright?" he asked, but the question trailed off into nothing upon spotting Ed standing in front of the mirror, black eyes following his fingers, which trailed softly across a pale neck. Ed didn't seem to have noticed him, and Roy wasn't surprised to see his own face adorned with the flush Ed was so famous for.

"Touch the spot just under my collarbone," he suggested. "It's really sensitive."

Ed whirled around. His hand flew back to his side, and he stared hugely at Roy, who smirked smugly back. The flush darkened and Ed squirmed slightly. It amused Roy to no end to see his own body so fidgety, and judging from the way Ed quickly looked away, it unnerved Ed to see his own face smirking like that. So they were both a bit weirded out.

"It's not what it looks like," Ed finally got out.

"Really?" Roy replied, smirk widening. "Because I think that it is very _much_ what it looks like."

"I-I— I just…" Then Ed found himself and snapped, "Can you fuckin' _blame_ me? It's been _weeks_. We haven't had sex in weeks, and— it's driving me crazy, alright?" With a snarl and another scarlet flush, he turned his back to Roy to stare into the mirror again. "It's all I can fucking do not to just— _god,_" he choked out, fingers curling around the edge of the sink. "I'm not even _me_, but I need to get off, like _now_. There's no way I'm gonna be able to manage going in to work and doing all of _your_ shit when I'm this fucking horny."

Roy wasn't surprised in the least. "I know," he said grimly. "Me too."

Then Ed was right in front of him, staring down into his own eyes with desperation. Roy stared back, half in amazement at the amount of passion Ed could pack into his gaze— hell, Roy didn't know if _he_ could make his eyes look like that. "We should do it," Ed breathed. "Right now."

"We aren't—"

"I fucking realize," Ed snarled. "But I don't care. You know how many times I've told you to go fuck yourself? Well, come on, let's make it reality."

Roy felt his restraint crumbling. It was going to be weird—weirder than anything they'd done before, and hell, they'd done some weird shit. But he really couldn't help himself and he was sure he looked just as desperate as Ed. In a pathetic attempt to refuse, he said, "Alphonse is downstairs…" His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears, and the glint in his own black eyes let him know that Ed wasn't having it.

"Roy, come on," Ed pleaded. "My dick will shrivel up and fall off." Then, after a pause, he said, "Well, yours. And that would almost be just as bad. I kinda like it how it is."

Roy rolled his eyes, but it was as good as consent. Ed's eyes lit up. "Fine," Roy found himself saying. "But we have to be quiet."

He barely had the chance to finish his sentence before he found himself pressed against the bathroom wall, with his own body looming over him, and then there were lips on his and the lingering thought that this was really fucking strange melted away to nothing.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: *casually cuts off chapter before lemon***

**WHO GOT DA POWAH**

**I GOT DA POWAH**

…**It'll get done eventually. You guys know me, I tend to procrastinate when it comes to this stuff.**

**I feel like there's going to be at LEAST four more chapters…**


	42. The Shirt Bandit

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I'm so conflicted though guys, when I write the lemon for Switch, who the hell tops? Like I don't care I like both of them bending over and taking it but what the heckie **

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: The Shirt Bandit**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

It is something of a mystery, Roy thought, that his shirts have peculiarly started disappearing from the wire hangers in his closet.

At first, he was under the impression that he had a clothes-robber of a ghost; he'd never much believed in the supernatural, but after receiving some comments about feeling an portentous presence in his guest room, he was inclined to believe that maybe there _was_ something in his house. He wasn't sure why a spirit would steal his clothes, but supposed the reason was less important than the actual event.

Then, he came to the conclusion that there was no otherworldliness involved (because that was stupid, really). The culprit had to be the little fiery blond that tended to raid his closet more often than _he_ did. They'd only been together— as in officially together and not reduced to heated, rushed meetings in dark alleys and military supply closets— for a couple of months now, and it was sometime in the middle of that that his shirts had started vanishing from his closet. It was no mystery _who_ was doing it.

Roy just couldn't figure out _Why_ Edward was doing it.

His hand was still resting slightly on the handle to his closet door as he regarded its contents with pursed lips. Twelve shirts. He used to have twelve shirts— the ones with collars and buttons, half pressed and crisp for formal wear, the other half of them rumpled and soft for casual wear. Now, he had nine. Six formal shirts and three comfortable ones. He supposed it wasn't too big of a deal, but he couldn't understand why Ed would possibly steal his shirts when he had plenty of his own, and plus, Roy's shirts were two sizes too big for him anyway, even after Ed had grown those last few inches.

So, what the hell?

With a sigh, he swung the closet door shut. Ed would be over for dinner, he was sure, so he'd ask him then. He finished buttoning up his shirt— one of his remaining casual-wear ones— and slid on a pair of black jeans, grabbing his military-issued jacket before leaving his bedroom and heading downstairs to scour the kitchen and make a list of what he needed to pick up from the grocery store.

He was almost out of the front door when his phone started its shrill ring on the kitchen counter. Muttering a curse under his breath, he kicked off his shoes and hurried over just in time to pick it up before its last ring. "Hello?" he said, maybe a bit more irritably than necessary.

He was surprised to hear the almost shy voice of Alphonse Elric. _"Um, Colonel, sir? Did I get the right number?"_

Why would Alphonse be calling him? "It's me," he replied. "Is something wrong?"

"_Ehm, no, not exactly..."_ He heard metal clanking as Alphonse moved around on the other side. _"I was just wondering… have you been missing any shirts?"_

Roy's eyebrows pulled together. So, he was right. It _was_ Ed. "Yeah, I have. What is Edward doing with them? I'm not particularly upset, just kind of… confused."

A weak laugh came through the earpiece. _"Actually, he doesn't do much. He kinda has them balled up on his bed—he cuddles them."_ Alphonse chuckled again and Roy couldn't help but to smile at the mental image. _"I was just calling to ask if you wanted them back. Ed's out right now, so he's not guarding them like an angry dog, and I can drop them off, if you want."_

Roy had to laugh at that; what the hell was it about his shirts that got Ed this feisty? "That's fine," he replied. "Actually, Ed said he was coming over here for dinner, so I'll just pick him up in an hour or two and grab them then."

"_Alright. Oh, and sir?"_

"Yes?"

"_I think he snagged your cologne, too."_

Roy's eyebrows furrowed. He'd been wondering where that went. "What a little shit," he murmured, mostly to himself.

Al could only laugh in return.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

A couple hours later, Roy was standing in front of the Elrics' inn room door, mind still half-heartedly wondering why Ed would go so far as to _steal_ his stuff when hell, Roy would have given him a shirt with a couple spritzes of cologne if he'd just asked. He shook his head with a sigh and figured Ed would be Ed, and raised his hand to rap his knuckles against the door.

It flung open seconds later. It was Alphonse, looking somewhat cramped and awkward in the doorway that was significantly shorter than his armor, and he was holding Roy's stuff in his gloved hands. "Here," he whispered, hastily shoving the shirts and the glass bottle of cologne at a shocked Roy. "Take them and run before he gets out of the bathroo—"

"Hey!" an indignant voice griped from further in the room. "Where the hell's all Roy's— oh, Al, who is it?"

Al's glowing eyes stared into the depths of Roy's soul. "He's going to flip," he whispered.

Roy, for all his confusion, couldn't really say anything except for "Uh-huh."

The door was roughly wrenched the rest of the way open, and then Ed was there, a nasty glare on his face. Then, he caught sight of the rather lost Roy, and instantly a cherry shade replaced his glower. "Oh," he squeaked, a particularly unmanly tone that received a raised eyebrow and a metallic snicker. He attempted to cover up his embarrassment with another scowl, but he was blushing too hard for it to do anything except make Roy and Al more amused.

"So," Roy spoke conversationally, breaking the heavy silence, "I guess I found out where my shirts have been disappearing to."

"I—I, I can explain…"

"Please do." Roy raised an eyebrow.

"I just— uh… they appeared on my bed and I thought they made a nice cushiony thingie so I kept 'em 'cause they're, like, comfy bunched up like that."

Al let out something like a snort. "You don't even sleep _on_ it, you cuddle it like—"

"Shut _up_, Al!"

"Riiight," Roy said dryly, drawing the word out for effect. Ed's face reddened further and he began sputtering, avoiding eye contact, fidgeting, shuffling his feet, the works. Roy couldn't help but be amused, and his eyebrows raised higher as he attempted (and failed, probably) to repress a smirk.

"I— okay, fine!" Ed snapped. "I took them, okay? And your stupid cologne too— shut the fuck up," he snarled when Roy snickered. "I just— the shirts smell like you and your dumb house and your cologne smells like you and it just fuckin' _smells_ like you and I like how you smell! So I took some fuckin' shirts! Do you even smell how dingy this inn is? It's all fuckin' mildewy an' shit and I didn't want to freakin' deal so I took your shirts and your cologne and now it smells like you and I'm okay with it and I'm not okay with the mildew so you can wipe that dumb fuckin' smirk off your face, fuck you, this isn't funny," Ed warned, "this is serious business, bastard, don't fucking laugh at me!"

Roy was trying very hard not to laugh. Between the rant, Ed's obvious embarrassment, and the sheer fact that he just liked Roy's scent enough to _steal his stuff_, he was so entertained that he couldn't very well wipe the grin off his face for the life of him.

"So," he said between snickers, "let me get this straight, you've become so addicted to me that you have to take a little part of me back to your room? That's awfully sweet of you, Ed, but you could have just asked."

Ed looked affronted. "Like hell I'd ask for something like that! Makes me seem like, in love or something!" He blushed. "Which I so totally am not! This—this thing, it's just a _thing_—"

"And stealing it doesn't?" Roy said wryly. "Come on, admit it. You're in love with me, and you have to steal my scent because of it."

"No _way_!" Ed screeched.

Roy could sense a metal fist flying at his face in the very near future, but he still couldn't stop laughing. "My god, Ed, you're adorable."

"Agh! You know what? Take your stupid shirts!" Ed growled, flushing furiously at the smug remark. "I don't need them!"

"It's okay," Roy said, grabbing one from the pile— a baby blue one— and handing it to Ed. "You can keep this one, oh, and this," he tossed the cologne too, "I'll just get a new bottle. Although you _could_ just come sleep at my house more often, and have the real thing." He raised his eyebrow. "And by that I mean me."

"Gah, you're a fuckin' perve! Don't talk about getting in my pants with Al standing here, for fuck's sake!"

Al tittered awkwardly. "Don't worry, brother, I know what you guys do when you're alone." Then, just to spite his overly-flustered brother, he added, "I think I got to hear your side of it one too many times… Did you know that you hug those shirts in your sleep and, um, well, you know…?"

"_Al_!" Ed shrieked, flush returning violently. "Was that fucking _necessary_?"

His sides, oh god, his sides. Roy was trying so hard not to laugh that he was sure he had an unfortunate resemblance to a puffer fish. "You know what? Here," he said, voice trembling slightly with effort, and shoved the remainder of the shirts into Ed's hands. "I think _you'll _need these more than I will." He put a lethal amount of implication into those nine words and watched with great amusement as Ed's face went from cherry to scarlet.

Well, he supposed he knew _Why_ now.

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Ed wearing Roy's shirts tho**

**I want you all to know that I got a new wall scroll, and it has Roy on it, you know that scene from Brotherhood where he's all pissed and stuff and killing Envy and that part where it zooms up on his face and he's pulling his glove on and oh GAWD HE'S SO FUCKING LIVID and he looks all scary and shit? Well, it's a giant wall scroll of that, and it's hanging right in front of my bed, and I feel like he's mad at me for writing Ed stealing his shirts idk**

**Also if you want you can leave your opinion about who tops who in the Switch thing**

**Okay I'm done rambling for tonight bonne nuit mes amis ~**


	43. Selfish

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: UGH, SCHOOL STARTS TUESDAYY. **

**I don't fucking want to go back. Ughhhghgh. **

**Anyway, updates will probably be slower now, since I actually have to **_**try**_** this year, since it's grade 12 and all. I'll write whenever I have free time, though, and it usually doesn't take me anything over 4 hours to write a drabble thing, so updates will still be frequent, just not a frequent as usual. Know what I'm sayin'?**

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**Title: Selfish**

**Rating: T+ for arguing and swearing idk I was in a bitch mood. I figured I'd get some of it out by making my OTP bitch at each other. Yeeah.**

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"For the last time," Roy ground out through clenched teeth, "I'm _not_ sending you on that mission, Edward."

Ed's response was just as snappy and immediate as the many he'd retorted before. "You know what, Roy? I have friends there. _Friends_. I'm not just going to sit around with my thumb in my ass waiting for them to get hurt! If you'd just let me _go_—"

"Do you even know what you're up against?" Roy struggled to keep his voice calm. He didn't want to yell, but Ed's stubbornness was becoming increasingly infuriating. He might love Edward, but sometimes enough was enough, and that didn't seem to be getting through his thick skull. He normally had no reservations about sending Edward on missions, even dangerous ones— but this one was different. Even with his incredible combat skill and alchemical ability, Roy was positive Edward's chances of coming out of this one alive were slim to none. Which, he thought with a repressed growl of frustration, Ed didn't seem to understand. Hell, Roy wouldn't send _Armstrong_ out there alone. Which was exactly what Ed was asking of him for himself.

"I'm not a fuckin' moron!" Ed snapped. "I got the memo the first time! Look, if I can fight the Homunculi and get away alive, then I can take this guy. All it'll take is some alchemy and trickery and I'll have him." His tone was desperate in all its anger. "I can't just sit around here knowing that someone I _care_ about could be getting killed as we speak, damn it! What if it was _me_?" he demanded, hand flying out and nearly knocking over the chipped mug that he'd placed and forgotten on the coffee table in front of him. It tittered dangerously and some cold coffee splashed out, but neither paid any attention, too focused on the argument for something so trivial to matter. "What if it was me stuck as hostage in that town with that psychotic son of a bitch? Would you be able to just sit around at home?"

"If it was you," Roy replied in a tight voice, "I'd send a platoon of soldiers."

"I don't need a fucking platoon!" Ed snarled back. The protectiveness was touching, and he appreciated it, really; but he wasn't a damn child and he didn't _need_ protecting. He could take care of himself. He might come out of it all with a few more scars and trauma but that wasn't the fucking point— because how could he live with himself if he _didn't_ go and something happened to his friends? "If it's such a big deal, send me with backup. If it'll help you sleep at night."

"For fuck's sake, Ed!" Roy finally let his voice raise to a near shout, losing his patience completely. "I am _not_ sending you and that's final! I don't care if you bring a fucking army— I'm not sending you anywhere near that psychopath because I know you, and you'll be right in the line of action, and you know what happens to people who get right in the line of action with a person like him? They get hurt. They _die_, Edward, and I'm _not_ letting you die. Maybe I'm selfish," he said, cheeks flushed in anger, "but I don't care. How do you think _I_ would feel, if I sent you on that mission and you never came home?" The thought made a painful lump rise in his throat, and he had to swallow it down and take a moment to calm down before the tears stinging at his eyes formed.

Ed's expression had softened—still mad, but less furious and more despairing, now. "Roy…" he mumbled, looking down at his lap. He sounded tired, like he'd lost the will to argue. Roy felt the same.

"I understand you want to be there for your friends," he said, quieter now after having taken that moment to collect himself. "But I can't let you go. If you die under my command, I don't think I… I don't think I could ever get past it. I wouldn't be able to live with myself." He raised his eyes to meet Ed's desperately. "Please," he said quietly, letting just the slightest fraction of the desperation he felt seep into his voice. "I'll send as many men as I can, I promise, I just… I can't send you."

Ed fell limply back onto the couch. He glared off to the side, obviously displeased, but muttered, "Fine." After a moment of silence, he added, "If Russel or Fletcher die— if they even get _hurt_— it's on you for not letting me go."

"Goddamnit, Edward, _please_. Can we not argue?" Roy said tiredly. "They're nearly as clever as you and Alphonse. I'm sure they'll find some way to get out of there." He realized his mistake as soon as he said it, and not a second later, Ed was raring to go again, eyes ablaze.

"If that's so, then why can't I _go_?" he demanded, slamming his hands down. "You know damn well I can take care of myself!"

"I know," Roy snarled. "But there's only so much you can do. Sometimes things don't work out how you planned them. I'm sure you remember being pierced by that pole in the North during a fight with Kimblee. What happened again? Oh, right, he had _another_ Philosopher's Stone— how did that work out for you?"

Ed's glare was venom. "It was bad luck!"

"And it could damn well happen again. This guy is worse than Kimblee, Ed. We don't know what to expect from him— we don't even know what he's capable of beyond what little alchemy we've seen so far. All we _do_ know is that he escaped the maximum-security prison down South and he's a ruthless, psychopathic killer who, in the _five days_ since he's escaped, has already brought up a body count of over ten."

Ed crossed his arms, curling his lip with a 'tch' gruffly averting his eyes to the ground. He was cornered in this argument, and they both knew it. "So what?" he said quietly after a short moment of tension. "It's better to send a bunch of soldiers to detain him than it is to send me? Their lives are worth less than mine?"

"Yes," Roy replied without batting an eyelash; without even thinking. Ed stared at him with huge eyes, aghast, but Roy couldn't find it in himself to feel regret about what he'd just said. He was a selfish man, and he knew it, and he didn't care— and damned if he was going to lose one of the only people he really, truly loved. "It's egotistical and cruel, and I'm fully aware of it. But I'm not letting you die. You're not only my subordinate— you're my _lover_, Edward, and I refuse to lose you. You mean too much to me and I won't let anyone take you away from me."

Ed's eyes softened, like he wanted to take the blunt confession to heart and let the argument go, but his nature— the need to save everyone— made it too hard to do. After a moment of struggling with his emotions (a battle that was as clear as day in his eyes), he let out a long sigh, shut his eyes, and muttered, "Fine. I won't go."

Relief burst through Roy like a fire. He released a heavy sigh, letting his head fall into his hands, and ran his fingers through his hair that was already ruffled after running his hands through it so often the past half-hour. "Thank you," he said quietly.

Ed opened his eyes, and Roy saw the gold irises focus on him warily. "You're a selfish bastard." Ed spoke in a voice that was as cold as it was warm; angry, yet accepting. He wasn't happy but he understood Roy's need to keep him safe— he didn't know how many more people he loved that he could stand to see die, either.

"I know," Roy replied with a weak, humourless chuckle. "I'm sorry."

"Whatever." The word was clipped and cool, but Roy could tell that Ed wasn't angry anymore— just annoyed. He'd just need a little while to calm down. Crossing his arms again, Ed shifted on the couch, stretching his legs out so that his toes were tucked under Roy's thigh. Roy didn't look up, still sitting there with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, but he was solaced by Edward's touch. He was forgiven despite his selfishness.

They sat in silence for a little while, a tension hanging between them. The air was nearly thick enough to cut with a butter knife. He could feel Ed's flesh toes curling and uncurling under his thigh, and in his peripheral view, he could see Ed staring at the ceiling, brooding, flicking one strand of hair between metal fingers.

"You know," Ed said eventually, his voice surprisingly calm, "I'm pretty selfish too."

Roy raised an eyebrow, but said nothing other than, "Oh?"

"Yeah." Ed shifted, sliding onto his back, resting his calves across the top of Roy's legs. "I just wanted to go help them so bad I didn't even think of… you. I shouldn't have…" He trailed off, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm a selfish bastard too."

Roy couldn't help but crack a small grin. "I guess we're both selfish then, aren't we?"

"Mmm," Ed hummed in agreement. He lifted his left leg and lightly traced a path up Roy's chest with the tip of his metal toe, smiling a bit when Roy finally lifted his head to give him a suspicious look. "You know what I think?" Ed asked, arching a thin eyebrow.

"Nothing?" Roy suggested.

"Hilarious," Ed replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "I think that next time, we should just skip the argument, and go straight to the make-up sex."

Roy's eyes darkened, but he kept his tone light. "We could," he agreed evenly. Ed's lips curled up at this and he crawled closer, eyes smoldering with lascivious intent. "But, you know," Roy added, raising his eyebrows with a cynical twist of his lips as Ed climbed on top of him, knees on either sides of his thighs, "bribing me with an orgasm doesn't make you any less wrong about anything."

Ed's lustful gaze disappeared for a flat glare. "Don't you fucking start again."

Roy shrugged, a tiny smirk playing on his lips. "Didn't you say to skip the argument and go straight to the make-up sex?" he murmured, trailing one finger down the delicate edge of Edward's jaw. He received a fierce golden glare in return.

"You're a fuckin' bastard, you know that?"

"This sounds a lot to me like arguing and _not_ like this make-up sex you're talking about."

He received another fierce glare in return, but Ed chose to respond by pressing their mouths together instead of with words. It was angry, immediately hot and sloppy, and their lips would probably be bruised and bleeding after, judging by the brute force with which they moved against each other, but, well, like the arguing— they could worry about that later.

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I feel like they'd have really great angry make-up sex idk **

**Sorry yet another stupid ending I just can't do them I need to work on that I think **


	44. I like a man in a uniform

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I AM AT 601 REVIEWS I DON'T UNDERSTAND?!**

**Aw yeahh time for some sex to spice up this drabble fic.**

**Also sorry for not updating for a few days, school is bogging me down with homework ALREADY.**

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**Title: I like a man in a uniform**

**Rating: M **

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Judging from the unbroken stream of curses and swears coming from the top floor of his house, Roy guessed that Edward was _highly_ unimpressed.

Not that he was surprised. After all, he'd been the one to deliver the news that had Edward's metaphorical panties in a twist. It seemed that the higher-ups had finally had enough of Ed's disobedience and refusal to obey the military code of conduct and wear a uniform, and while Roy didn't find it to be a big deal— actually, he was surprised it hadn't happened sooner— he'd known from the moment he'd learnt about it that the blond was going to _flip._

He had received a notice a few days ago that threatened the court-martial of one Edward Elric should he not conform to military protocol. The rule was that all military personnel were required to be in uniform at all times while on duty, with the exception of undercover and/or emergency situations. For many years, Roy had been able to persuade his superiors to let Edward get away with it— saying he was a prodigy, a brilliant alchemist that they couldn't risk losing for something as trivial as uniforms; that he was just a bratty kid, couldn't they give him a break? It had worked. No one had ever really paid much attention to Ed's clothes because he was a precious State Alchemist and the higher-ups knew it; however, now that he couldn't use alchemy anymore, he was just like any other soldier—albeit one with loads more experience and martial arts skills than the norm— and they saw him as nothing special. And so they were raising Hell.

Today, while Ed was out an hour or two to the East on a mission, a small-sized uniform had been delivered to Roy's office with the clear orders that it was to be given to Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric as soon as possible. Ed was in a foul enough mood when he came in to report as it was. Roy had then had the pleasure (or not) of breaking the news to a very moody Edward. He'd avoided it before. He hadn't told Ed about the notice he'd gotten, which was a terrible mistake; maybe Ed would have had some time to emotionally stabilize himself before being presented with the neatly-folded uniform minutes after returning from a mission.

Ed's reaction had been… predictable, Roy supposed. He also guessed that they weren't going to be sleeping in the same bed anytime soon. Ed was _pissed_ that Roy hadn't told him, and even more pissed that he had to wear the uniform or face charges. It was bordering on ridiculous, Roy agreed— but a part of him was curious to see how Edward would look in uniform. He didn't mention that, though, because the way that Ed was currently screeching his name down the stairs suggested he'd take part of a dissection featuring his own intestines should he do so. He cringed, sinking low into the plush couch, and brought his book up higher in an attempt to hide. Maybe he could pretend he wasn't here and Ed wouldn't kill him.

"Bastard!" Ed screeched down the stairs.

Or maybe not. Roy grimaced, hands running down his face and falling limply on his lap on top of his abandoned novel. Ed's voice was reminiscent of a hoard of demons shrieking in unison.

He tried for a casual tone. One that didn't betray the terror he felt inside. Because damn—whether they were lovers or not, Ed was _scary_ when he was mad. "Yes, darling?" he responded lightly. Then he pressed his eyes shut in dreadful anticipation. That probably wasn't the best idea. Ed tended to react badly to pet names…

As predicated, a dangerous, threatening growl floated down the stairs. "Are you asking me to rip your entrails out, you dick?" An impatient huff. The floorboard nearest the top stair creaked as Ed apparently shifted peevishly. "Get up here. I can't figure out how to do up the jacket right, and this _stupid_ fucking braid thing just keeps twisting under my arm and just— just fucking come help me. What the hell is this stupid skirt thing, anyway? Who fuckin' designed these gay-ass uniforms?" He went on ranting, but Roy had started drowning him out. With a sigh, he slid a bookmark in to mark his page and set his book on the glass coffee table. He was careful not to place it on the sticky ring from his early-morning coffee mug. Absentmindedly, he thought to himself that he really should wipe that sometime, when Ed's voice barked from upstairs again.

"For fuck's sake, Roy, don't stop and sniff the flowers on the way."

"My apologies, your highness," Roy replied sarcastically, ascending the stairs with unnecessary stomps. If Ed was going to be a brat about this, Roy would very well respond by doing the same. After all, if Ed wasn't going to make it easy for him, why should he make it easy for Ed? He stepped up the last stair and peered down the hall, checking to make sure Ed wouldn't attack him from the closet or something. The light in his bedroom was on, and he heard Ed snap a reply from inside. He resisted the strong urge to roll his eyes and headed over.

That curiosity was burning in him again. As pissed as Edward was, Roy was secretly very pleased about this. Since before his feelings for Edward were even romantic (or sexual, for that matter), he'd always been curious about what the boy would look like in uniform. Now, he wasn't a boy anymore— he was a man, and damned if that wasn't something Roy wanted to see dressed up. Despite Ed's biting words, the uniforms really were handsome, and Roy would be lying if he said that he didn't find that people instantly looked twice as attractive as soon as they put one on. He didn't know what it was— maybe he had some sort of uniform kink. Hell, he didn't know, but it'd make sense. Either way, he was _very_ excited to see what Ed would look like in uniform. He picked up the pace to the last few steps to his room.

"I'm here," he said exasperatedly, interrupting the never-ending string of bitching from Ed as he threw open the door the rest of the way. He was about to say something else— probably tell Edward to stop complaining or something— but his words died before they could even come into existence. He stood there at the doorway, his hand lingering on the handle, openly staring. Ed stood in front of the mirror, impatiently tugging and fidgeting with the buttons on the flap on the front of the deep blue jacket. He looked more annoyed at being unable to get in the uniform than mad_ at_ the uniform, like earlier. Roy could only stare. Ed looked _way_ better than he was expecting— seriously, he didn't think his mind could ever come up with something this gorgeous— and the uniform wasn't even fully on yet.

Edward's yellow eyes left the mirror to shoot Roy a death glare. "Don't drool," he snorted. "You'll get the carpet wet."

Roy wasn't quite sure how to speak properly at this point, so he just said, "Uh-huh."

"Roy!" Ed snapped, flicking an extra hair elastic at his face. It struck him straight in the cheek. Roy jerked out of his daze and scowled. Ed was staring at him expectantly. "A little help?"

Roy pursed his lips at the snippy words, but said nothing. He walked closer to Ed, fixing this and that on his uniform; the flap on the front was done up wrong, the braid that looped around the right side was twisted under the stripes on the shoulder, the belt at the waist rotated slightly to the right. It didn't take long for him to fix the mistakes. He tugged slightly on the skirt-garment hanging from Ed's girlish hips to straighten it out, checked quickly for anything he'd missed, then stood back and just… looked.

Ed always made his heart rate speed up— but this, this absolutely took his breath away. It was just a damn military uniform; it shouldn't be anything special. Hell, he saw them everywhere every day of his life. But Ed made it look so _good_. The deep blue made Ed's skin appear a purer shade of light caramel and somehow, his eyes looked a richer gold than usual. The yellow detail on the jacket brought out the flecks of lighter yellow in his eyes and his light hair contrasted deeply with the dark colour of the uniform. Roy didn't know what it was, but Edward looked so… mature. His hair was pulled back into its usual ponytail, his back straight, shoulders wide… he couldn't get enough.

Okay, yeah. He definitely had a uniform kink.

He released a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Edward…"

"Shut up," Ed mumbled, fidgeting under the open awe in Roy's eyes. The only thing inhibiting the newfound maturity the uniform connoted was the scarlet flush on Ed's cheeks, but it made the sight all that more pleasing, and Roy didn't think he'd have it any other way. "I look ridiculous," Ed was grumbling, fiddling with the sleeve cuffs. "Do I _have_ to wear it?"

"Yes," Roy said, somewhat breathlessly. "It's direct orders from your superiors."

"Assholes," Ed said under his breath. Roy let out a weak laugh. Ed squirmed uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, running the tips of his fingers along the stars and stripes on his shoulders, picking at the collar, fidgeting and flushing until Roy couldn't just _stand_ there anymore.

He didn't even realize what he was doing as he was doing it; one moment he was standing there staring at Edward in uniform, the next he had shoved the blond backwards onto the bed and was crawling up his body until he was face-to-face with a very confused and flustered Edward. There was a startled exclamation on the tip of Ed's tongue, but it never came into existence. Before he could say anything, Roy pressed their mouths together, tongue twisting past Ed's lips until Ed's feeble struggles had melted into frenzied moans and hands pulled desperately at the back of his shirt. His tongue flicked along the top of Ed's mouth, ghosting the tips of his fingers around the buttons on the flap on the jacket. Ed's fingers made fists in the back of his shirt, another moan melting into Roy's mouth, thrusting his own tongue back in a sloppy, hot dance. He gulped in air when they parted, a soft whimper of loss escaping him on its own will as he leaned up to try and reinitiate it but ended up falling back on the mattress with a short gasp when Roy's lips latched onto his jaw instead.

"Wh-what—" Ed tried to get out, but it was hard to speak with how fast he was breathing. He struggled for another moment, mouth hanging open as he tried to form words that wouldn't come under the skilled licking and sucking and nibbling at his neck. Finally, he managed to pant out, "What the h-hell— is this about?" He grit his teeth with another moan, hips jerking up into Roy's body as that particularly sensitive spot on his neck received a hard bite. "Roy, what—"

"I'm sorry," Roy replied breathlessly, one hand coming up to pop open the jacket he'd done up not five minutes ago. Ed squirmed as his fingers dipped inside, finding the hem of the loose black tank he wore underneath, sliding under to rub at old scars and teasingly flick at perked nipples. Ed's breath hitched and his head threw back as Roy licked a hot trail down the salty skin of his neck. "You just look so good in uniform that I couldn't—" He cut himself off, gasping sharply when Ed's hands dug into the bottom of his back and pressed down, grinding upwards as he did so, rubbing their hips together, hard. His head fell limply onto Ed's shoulder, shocks of lust spreading through his veins like wildfire.

"You're a fuckin' pervert," Ed breathed, but if the hard bulge pressing against Roy's crotch meant anything, he didn't mind at all. He spread his legs further until they were flush together, grinding against one another desperately. The friction was enough to bring tears burning in the corners of their eyes, and they didn't even have their clothes off yet— and, if they kept this up, they wouldn't even have the time for that. Ed's head was thrown back on the pillow, moans spilling from his mouth much like the steady stream of curses earlier. Roy impatiently shoved the black tank further up, irritably pushing the flaps of the jacket out of his way, and leaned down and sucked one pink nipple into his mouth. Ed gasped and arched and their hips clashed harder than before. One hand flew up Roy's hair to hold him in place.

"I-if you don't slow down, I'm gonna ruin m-my uniform," Ed wheezed.

Roy released something close to a growl. "Then ruin it," he murmured, lapping the flat of his tongue over Ed's nipple, rolling the other between his fingers. "You can get a new one."

The words apparently went unheard as Ed moaned and undulated beneath him, fingers tightening almost painfully in Roy's hair. Roy groaned, replacing his mouth with his other hand to lean up and place another hot kiss on Ed's open, panting mouth. Tongues slid sloppily together, soft moans and gasps melting into each other's mouths, confined erections rubbing together through the material of their pants. Part of Roy wanted to take it slow— wanted to pull back and watch Ed slowly unravel, see his uniform messed up and his cheeks flushed in wanton pleasure; take his time and make it last. The other part was reduced to mindless _craving_; faster, harder, faster, harder, more, more_, more_. The first part slowly became harder and harder to focus on, until pure carnal lust won over, and he was tearing open his zipper and yanking down Ed's military pants and grinding skin on skin.

At some point, Ed's hands had flown up to clutch the headboard. It creaked dangerously as his grip tightened and his body thrashed, but neither of them paid any attention. The only sounds were harsh breathing, breathless moans and swears, and the rustling of the uniform and Roy's clothes and the sheets. Ed's body was tense, head thrown back on the pillow, and his words were barely comprehensible , but Roy could make out a gasping, "Roy, Roy, _fuck_—" and bit down hard on the sweaty skin of Ed's bared neck to muffle a moan. That was all it took for Ed to jerk, breath hitching and body arching in a way that could only signify the final ebb. Warmth splattered between them, but Roy barely had the chance to listen to Ed's sweet moans before his own climax had him gasping and trembling and struggling not to collapse on top of Ed's spend body.

Time seemed to hang in suspension for a moment, and all he could think was of how utterly screwed he was— he _so_ had a kink for Ed in uniform, and now he had to see that. Every day. And he would remember this every day too. Under his breath, he let out a particularly nasty swear.

"You fucking _bastard_," Ed's groggy voice vaguely floated past his high. Panting, Roy forced his eyelids open, flopping onto his back next to Ed, fighting to catch his breath. He lifted a limp hand and brushed Ed's sweaty bangs away from his forehead, planting a soft kiss there and grinning when Ed's directed a half-assed punch at his chest.

"Look at this," the blond muttered in tired disgust. "I'm gonna get in so much shit now 'cause I can't even wear it to work…"

"We could wash it."

"No we couldn't, it's everywhere."

"…Hm."

Ed propped himself up on his elbows and shot a glare down at him, but it was softened by the laziness of their afterglow. "What the hell was that, anyway?" he grumbled. "I'm not complaining, but… maybe a little warning next time, yeah?"

"Sorry," Roy chuckled. "I may have a… _thing_… for seeing you in uniform."

"You think?" Ed scowled. He fell back onto the mattress next to him and snuggled closer, unminding of the messes on their torsos. "If I get in shit, you're takin' the heat for it, you hear me?" He wrinkled his nose, picking at the stained jacket with distaste. "So, this is ruined. What the hell do I do with it, now?"

"You keep it," Roy replied without batting an eyelash. Ed just stared.

"Why?"

"You think that I'm going to be able to stand seeing you in uniform and not being able to fuck you in it? No. You're keeping that one so that I can." He turned onto his stomach, flinging an arm over Ed's stomach, stuffing his face into the crook of the blond's neck. "Got it?"

"I don't know how many times I've said this, but…"

"I'm a pervert. I know."

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**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Guys I still struggle at smut ugh I wish I didn't help IT WAS TOO RUSHED WASN'T IT **

**Oh god no I'm sorry I have to stop whining to you guys all the time this isn't a fuckin' diary **

**But anyway yeah those uniforms though**


	45. The Penis Game

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: My friend roped me into playing the Penis game in study hall today. We were sent to see the principal. -.-**

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**Title: The Penis Game**

**Rating: T for language**

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"Hey," Ed whispered. He cupped mismatched hands around his mouth in an attempt to look shady and gestured for Roy to lean closer. "Hey," he whispered again. "Hey, Roy."

"What?" Roy said irritably. He removed his head from where it rested on his hand and straightened to give the leering blond a dirty look.

"Don't be mean," Ed whined. "I'm bored."

"No shit?" Roy replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I couldn't tell."

"I shouldn't have come. Adults are boring."

"Something for you to look forward to," Roy said dryly. "No one forced you to come."

Ed sniffed. "I felt it was an obligation as your subordinate and boyfriend. The rest of the team's here. I didn't wanna be the only one to bail."

"You're sixteen," Roy shot back. "No one would have been surprised at all if you didn't want to hang out with a bunch of adults. Plus," he sighed, twirling his glass, watching ice cubes clink and sparkle in the dim light, "even if you only came because we're together, it's not as if I'm doing anything terribly entertaining." It was true; he wasn't feeling very well tonight, but he hadn't wanted to cancel, so he had been sitting in the living room most of the evening as the rest of his team chatted and did whatever in the dining room.

"I don't care," Ed muttered. "Beats sitting around doing nothing in a shitty hotel room." He glanced over to where his brother was washing dinner's dishes with Fuery and Falman. "Al's happy to be here, anyway. He really gets along with Fuery." He paused then, leaning into Roy's side. "And anyway," he muttered, "it'd be weird to hang out with people our age 'cause they haven't seen shit that we have. It would just be awkward. That's why I'm here and not out partying like normal teenagers."

"You haven't been a child for a long time," Roy agreed. He offered Ed his glass in an attempt to change the subject from the somber one it was becoming. "Want a sip?"

Ed reached for the glass. He hesitated for a moment before tipping it back. Roy watched with great amusement as a look of utter disgust came over Ed's face. Ed might not be a child mentally, but his youth often showed unexpectedly, like this. He shoved the glass back into Roy's hands, swallowing quickly, then sticking his tongue out and gagging. "Christ," he breathed. He grabbed his glass of water and chugged it to wash out the taste. "The fuck is that, anyway?"

"Some of Breda's expensive scotch."

"_Disgusting._" Ed wrinkled his nose. "How do you stomach it?"

Roy shrugged and took another sip of his drink. "It's an acquired taste."

"Nights spent alone with a bottle and your own thoughts, I'm guessing."

Roy made a face, but didn't respond. Ed knew him too damn well. He heard a sigh.

"I'm bored."

"So you've said," Roy replied absently. "Repeatedly."

"We should play the penis game," Ed muttered. It was so quiet Roy was positive he heard wrong.

His eyebrows came together. "Excuse me?" he asked incredulously.

"You know," Ed said. "The penis game."

"…I have no idea what that is."

"Sheesh, you're old," Ed muttered. This elicited an indignant frown, but Ed didn't notice. "You just keep saying penis louder and louder."

"Why the hell is this a thing?"

"It's just something someone made up to kill boredom," Ed scowled.

"I'm not doing it," Roy said contemptuously. "In case you didn't notice, Edward, there are other people here." His eyes flicked to the kitchen area, where the rest of his team sat around a square dinner table or stood in front of the sink washing and drying dishes. There was a low murmur of conversation from the kitchen, and the occasional roar of laughter from Breda and Havoc, who were just starting to get tipsy by now.

Ed didn't seem to care about the company. "So?" he said, unabashed. "You're supposed to play it with other people around."

"No way," Roy said flatly.

"Oh, come _on_."

"No."

Ed clicked his tongue. "Roooyy."

"No, Ed."

"Are you not manly enough to say penis?"

"That is not the point. It's immature."

Ed let loose a snort. "And you're the epitome of mature, right? Look, bastard, you parade around your house half-naked and sing – horribly, I might add – whole cooking and cleaning. You might be mature at work but you're _such_ a loser at home that you can't tell me honestly that you are the mature person you like to believe you are."

Roy glared, sipping at his drink again to avoid answering. Ed's eyes glittered at him in the faint light coming from the kitchen that lit the living room with a faint glow. Even in the partial darkness, he could see the wide grin on Ed's face; the shit-eating smirk that let Roy know that Ed knew he was right.

"Come on," Ed taunted again.

"God_damnit_, Edward—"

"If you don't play the penis game with me then you can forget about sex for a month," Ed said bluntly.

"I'm not the only one who gets off on it," Roy retorted. "As if you could do that."

"I have my fingers and a wild imagination," Ed replied with a brilliant, teeth-baring grin. "I was hot for you for _months_ before you reciprocated it, bastard. I've had plenty of practice getting myself off to the thought of you."

Roy's shirt felt a bit too stifling after hearing – and imagining – that. He tipped his glass back, looking away from Ed's toothy grin. "No," he repeated firmly.

"Awww," Ed cooed. He made a _whoosh_ sound, blowing air out of his mouth. "You hear that? Hear it?" He leaned closer, widening his eyes innocently and shooting Roy a look of mock-pity. "That's the sound of your sex life flying away." He clapped Roy on the shoulder, smiling sadly, and wiped a fake tear from his eye. "Your poor, poor dick. However shall it survive?" He patted it fondly through Roy's pants.

Roy rolled his eyes at the whole dramatic display, swatting Ed's hand away from his crotch. "Drama queen," he muttered around a sip of scotch.

"Bitch," Ed retorted.

"Shrimp."

"Old man."

"Shorty."

"Old man with a non-existent sex life." Ed did a mock salute. "Adiós, blue balls."

"You little shit. You know what? Fine." Roy crossed his arms. "Fuck you, but fine."

"You can do that if you play the penis game," Ed said coyly.

Roy shot him a dirty look. "Fine," he said lowly. "I'll play your stupid game. But only because I know you won't stop being annoying unless I do."

Ed grinned widely. "I knew you'd see it my way." He poked Roy's cheek. "Penis."

"Penis," Roy mumbled.

"You have to say it louder!" Ed scolded. "Penis."

"Penis," Roy repeated irritably, but louder.

"Penis."

"Penis."

"Penis!

"Penis!"

"Peeeeniiiiiisss!"

"Penis…"

"_Peeeeeeeniiiiiiiiiissssss—"_

"Will you two shut up?" Al barked from the kitchen.

"We know what you like, don't advertise it!" Havoc tossed an empty plastic bottle of pop at them— Fuery's, probably. "Sheeeeesh."

"If you need the D, get a room! The guest room is the second on the right. Seriously." That was Fuery, staring at them with a slight flush. "Just try not to get the sheets dirty."

"Guys, it's the penis game!" Ed said exasperatedly. His cheeks were red. "Seriously."

Breda leered at them, one eyebrow cocked. "Yeah?" he said. "Well I get the feelin' you two should go and play a different penis game, if you know what I'm sayin'." His grin widened when Ed glared darkly at him. "Hey, _I _wasn't the one yelling about dicks."

"It's the damned _penis game _for fuck's sake!" Ed snapped. "You're supposed to yell about dicks!"

"Go yell about dicks for other reasons," Havoc suggested sweetly, gesturing to the hall. "We don't want to hear it out here."

Roy's head fell back onto the couch. "See?" he grumbled to Ed as his team continued to make sexual innuendos and penis jokes. "_This_ is why I didn't want to play it."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: The penis game is so stupid but it's so stupidly **_**FUN**_**.**


	46. Mr Doodles

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Doop de doop I am here friends**

**Sorry I'm in that weird mood again**

**Anyway I was talking to **_thepumpkinqueen712_ **and she gave me this prompt so blame her for the crack not me ;D**

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**Title: Mr. Doodles**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

"What the _hell_ is that thing?"

Roy frowned at Edward's appalled tone. "You don't like it?"

"What the hell _is_ it?" Ed demanded. He put his book down and got to his feet. He edged closer to where Roy stood at the entrance to the living room with a wary look in his eyes, as if he suspected the giant six-foot tall stuffed giraffe the man held would attack. It towered over them both, its plush head brushing the ceiling slightly.

Roy shifted the stuffy in his grip. It was ridiculously hard to keep it from toppling over. "It's a giraffe," he clarified even though it was pretty obvious.

Ed craned his neck to stare up at the stuffed giraffe's head. It was a bright yellow, with a pastel blue ribbon around its long neck and a silly smile donning its squishy face. It was… cute, Ed supposed. But still… Why? The question must have showed in his eyes. Roy sighed.

"I was at the store looking for a present for Elicia," he explained. "I figured she might like a doll for her birthday, so I went to the toy store, and I remembered that your birthday was the same day as hers, so…" He trailed off with a shrug, glancing up at the giraffe's grin. "I sort of… just saw this, and it reminded me of you for some stupid reason, so I got it. And no, don't worry," he said with a slight grin when he saw the look of contempt on Ed's face, "this isn't your only birthday present."

"That's not the problem," Ed said slowly. He lowered his gaze from the giraffe's permanent smile to meet his lover's black eyes. He didn't really understand why a giraffe would remind Roy of him… and much less this six-foot tall one. Giraffes were tall. Ed… was not as tall. "It's just… so…" He searched for a word, but couldn't find one, and ended up finishing pathetically, "Tall."

Roy shrugged. "It's kinda cute though, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Ed said gruffly. "It's cute. But I'm not a girl."

"You love stuffed animals and you know it," Roy said, amusement glittering in his eyes. "Don't lie to yourself." He wiggled the giraffe at Ed, grinning when Ed scowled at him but took the overly-tall stuffy into his arms all the same. Roy saw the delicate flush donning his lover's cheeks and grinned, knowing that Ed secretly did like it but that he'd never admit it.

"Where the hell do I even put this?" Ed asked, dragging it further into the house, taking a great deal of caution to not let it topple over. "It's not like I can bring it to the inn. It's too damn big. Al would have a conniption."

Roy paused. "I hadn't thought about that," he admitted. "But you can put it in the guest room, I guess."

Ed chewed on his lip for a moment, staring at it. There was a flash of irritation, but he averted his eyes in an attempt to hide it. Roy raised an eyebrow and grinned.

"What's wrong? You're looking at it like you look at me when I don't give you a piece of my pie."

Ed glowered at him. "That's cruelty right there, you bastard."

"You didn't answer my question," Roy pointed out.

"You… just… ugh. It's _tall_," Ed finally spat, annoyance spiking. He glared daggers at the unsuspecting, smiling giraffe, like he wanted to murder it. "I can deal with being shorter than one thing with a face in this house." Roy frowned at being referred to as a thing, but Ed was too busy ranting to notice or care. "But two? _Two_? And look at this thing, fucking grinning like a fucking smug bastard, who does it think it is?" He huffed, hugging it tight to his chest, like he was trying to break its neck. "You did this just to spite me, didn't you?" he accused, glaring at Roy. "You're doing it because I ate the last ice cream sandwich."

Roy stared at him, horrified. "You ate the last one?" he demanded. "Seriously? I told you not to touch my goddamned ice cream sandwiches, Ed!"

"Well fucking boo-hoo! Shoulda shared the pie!"

Roy pressed his lips together and wondered for the umpteenth time in his life why he put up with this brat. "I did not buy the giraffe to get back at you," he said calmly. "If I wanted to get back at you I would have been a lot more creative about it." Then, after a moment, he added, "For the record, though, you owe me an ice cream sandwich."

Ed rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He turned on his heel and hauled the giraffe behind him. "Goddamnit," he grumbled as its neck flopped all over the place and smacked him in the head a couple times. Roy watched, trying not to laugh, as Ed struggled to pull it all the way to the couch and flopped down, but not before getting bopped twice more right in the face. Muttering curses, Ed leaned it on the arm of the couch, swatting the neck away from his face, and clapped his hands together.

"What are you doing?" Roy asked, alarmed.

Ed slapped his hands to the giraffe's body. "Makin' it a proper size for a goddamned stuffy," he responded with a scowl. There was a bright blue glow. Once it cleared, there was a significant lack of giant giraffe in his living room— instead, it sat in Ed's lap, barely the length of his arms. Ed looked pleased with himself and a lot less irritated. Roy just stared at him.

"Did you just transmute that giraffe to be smaller because of your height issues?"

Ed shot him a glare. "Hey. I wouldn't have had to do it if you hadn't bought me such a retardedly tall giraffe, damn it." He chucked the shrunken plushy at Roy's head, a satisfied smirk twisting his lips when it hit him square in the forehead. "_That_ is how a stuffy should be."

Roy picked it up from the ground, glaring sullenly. "Put it back to normal," he said, throwing it back. "It's wrong now."

"_Wrong_?" Ed repeated in disbelief. "I don't know what you're smoking, but generally it's _wrong_ if a stuffy's the height of your goddamned ceiling, Roy."

"Giraffes are supposed to be tall," Roy argued. "You can't just shrink it. That's completely destroying its pride. You know what that's like?" he asked, crossing his arms. "It would be the same as shrinking a man's di—"

"Don't you dare bring up dicks," Ed warned, cuddling the stuffy close to his chest. "Mr. Doodles is good this size."

"Mr. Doodles?"

"Yeah, I just named him in my head. What do you think?"

"It's kind of… childish."

Ed gave him a droll look. "And buying me a giant stuffed animal isn't, right?" he said dryly.

Roy glared again. "Just put it back to normal."

"No way."

"I paid good money for that six-foot tall giraffe, now put it back, or so help me I'll beat you with it.'

"_Him_. Do not refer to Mr. Doodles as an 'it'."

"The threat remains. Put it— put _him_ back to normal." Roy frowned. "You wouldn't appreciate it if someone just came along and shrunk you, would you? Think of poor… Mr. Doodles."

Ed's death glare informed him that this was not an analogy that was suitable to be used involving him. "Someone stole what I have for height and I'd fuckin' ruin them."

"Exactly. So put Mr. Doodles back."

"Why do you even care so much?"

"I paid for six feet. Not for one." Roy leaned over Ed, placing his hands on either side of his head. Ed looked nervous, cheeks flushing slightly as he shrunk back into the couch, holding the plushy tight to his chest. Raising an eyebrow, Roy repeated, "Put him back to normal."

"Y-you gave it to me, so he's mine now," Ed said adamantly, turning his head away to hide his blush at the proximity. "Piss off."

Roy's tone was cool, dark and low. "Put him back to normal," he said quietly, fighting a smug smirk when he saw Ed squirm slightly underneath him. He leaned closer, burying his nose in the side of Ed's hair, and murmured, "Come on, Edward…"

Ed gulped audibly. "N-no."

"You know you want to…"

"You— you, damnit— fine!" Ed smacked him with Mr. Doodles, face bright red in embarrassment and irritation. "Just get off of me! Don't be a pervert in front of Mr. Doodles!"

Roy grinned victoriously. He pulled back and sat down next to Ed instead, trying not to snicker as Ed clapped again and transmuted the giraffe back to its normal size. With a huff, Ed leaned— more like threw himself— into the nook between Roy's arm and his body, his arms crossed and a stubborn pout on his face. He stared at Mr. Doodles with a great amount of contempt.

"You know what you should really get me for my birthday?" he grumbled.

"What?"

"Height. Friggin' height. So I can not suck and be shorter than a damned stuffed animal."

Roy chuckled. "I can't get you that, but I _can_ get you chocolate, and I imagine it'd bring about the same level of happiness to you."

Ed's eyes peeked up at him. "Chocolate?"

"The expensive Aerugean stuff, if I can find it."

Ed was obviously trying to stay mad but failing to do so due to excitement. For a long moment, he just stared, his eyes glittering as he fought a great internal battle. Finally, he grumbled, "You better."

"Will you forgive me for Mr. Doodles then?"

A metal elbow dug into his side. "We'll see."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Tbh my stuffed dolphin is named Mr. Doodles so don't go hatin' on the name**

********I had it pointed out to me that I didn't make the extra mass when Ed transmutes Mr. Doodles go anywhere so just assume that tiny Mr. Doodles weighs the same that big Mr. Doodles does or something idk I ain't no alchemist**


	47. Let Me In

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I have never been more stressed in my LIFE. This is the hardest year of school I've ever had. I'm already drowning in work and it's only SEPTEMBER. I should not have taken all university-level courses…**

**I'm also in a pretty bad mood lately, so I wanted to write something sad. So I did.**

**I'm sorry if this triggers anyone or something. I know how bad cutting can be and how memories about it can make you want to cry and curl up and never wake up again but I just can see something like this happening, so I wrote it. I'm genuinely sorry if it brings up touchy memories for anyone.**

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**Title: Let Me In**

**Rating: T**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

I found out by accident.

I guess I can't say I'm surprised. With the suffering he's gone through and the suffering he's _dealt_, it's amazing that it's not worse. If anything, I'm in shock— that feeling where you understand something is happening, but you can't wrap your mind around it. You can't make yourself accept it or admit that it's happening, and your mind, with every fibre of strength it possesses, tries to bury it beneath everything else.

Roy cuts.

I don't know how long we've been sitting here. The silence is deafening. It's heavy and it rings shrill in my ears, pressing down on my shoulders and making me feel utterly drained. He's sitting on one end of the bed and I'm sitting on the other. Our legs hang over the edge and his calf brushes mine lightly, but I can't focus on it. My mind is everywhere and nowhere all at once, and my heart feels like it's breaking into millions of pieces. My cheeks are wet and my eyes are stinging, but I feel too numb to even raise a hand to wipe the tears away.

I've known about how mentally messed up he was from the war for a while now, but I never knew it was this bad. He'd managed to hide it for the three months I've been living with him— he was in such pain this whole time and I never even _realized_. It explains why he'd never taken off his shirt in front of me, and why we haven't done—_that_, yet. It explains why he was still pushing me away after all this time. Had he done it while I was sleeping? Slipped out of my arms in the middle of the night? Guilt and terror and grief have my stomach spinning, and it takes all of my self-control not to break down right then and there.

He hasn't said a word since I saw them. I didn't mean to. It happened to quickly, so stupidly, that I'm still trying to wrap my mind around it. All I did was walk in to our bedroom. He happened to be changing at the time, and before he could hide his arms, I saw them. My heart throbs painfully, and my head falls into my hands as I try my hardest to repress a sob. Another tear rolls down my cheek and drops onto the carpet.

_Roy cuts._ The man that had always been there for me, the man I considered to be my pillar of strength— he was worse off than I was, and he'd never asked for anything in return, never once showed any inkling of weakness in front of me, never even shed a fucking _tear_ in front of me. Now, I know the truth, and I absolutely despise myself. I should have _known. _I should have helped him. I _could have_ helped him. I don't know what scares me more— the fact that I was so blind, or the fact that he hid it so well. It brought up the question: How _long_ has it been going on for?

…How bad has it gotten?

…Has he ever… tried to… you know…

My throat tightens up and I can't bring myself to finish the thought. I take a deep breath, and release it slowly, hoping it might help calm me down. It doesn't. I don't know if anything can, at this point.

_Roy cuts. God, I love him so much, and I couldn't even help him. I didn't even __**know**_.

"How long?" I whisper, breaking the terrible silence. When he doesn't answer, I lift my head from my hands and look at him desperately. "Roy, how long?"

He continues sitting there, wordlessly staring out the window. The sun is shining bright, and if you listen close, you can hear the faint bustle of the neighborhood's every day, mundane sounds— the world is going on even when it feels like mine is shattering into thousands of tiny little pieces. He had never finished putting on his shirt, and I can see them— an unsteady pattern of uneven, white lines marring his wrists, all the way up to his elbows. They gleam shockingly in the sunlight, and my heart feels as though it's being crushed more and more with every scar I see. Some of them look fresher than others. Some of them are faded and barely visible. All of them break my heart.

"Roy," I plead. My voice shakes, and I hate it, because I want to be strong for him. Swallowing, I try to steady my voice. "Please."

"I don't know," he finally replies in a hollow tone that twists my stomach anxiously. "I lost count. Since a bit after the War." His words tremble, and for a terrible moment, I think that he's going to cry. He turns his head and continues, "I stopped for a while, but… after Maes died, I just…" He trails off with a small shrug.

This is so wrong. I can barely handle hearing him like this. When we're alone, he's usually so sweet, smiling and laughing, but now I can't help but wonder if it was all a mask— if all along, he was hurting, but never wanting to show it because he didn't want to burden me with it. I want to tell him that I _want_ him to burden me with it. Anything. I'll do _anything_ as long as he doesn't have to do this anymore.

Instead, all I can do is try and swallow another sob. "Do you… still…."

He shrugs again, still refusing to meet my eyes. For a moment, he doesn't answer me, but eventually, he quietly admits, "Sometimes. When the memories get really bad." Finally, something seems to snap in him, and he looks at me with something like desperation. "I know I have to stop. I know. I _try_, but I can't do it. The things I saw in Ishbal— the things I _did_, Ed, I can't ever take them back. I killed innocent people. I _tortured_ innocent people. Children. There were even _babies_, and I killed them. I can barely stand to look at myself in the mirror some days." This time, when his voice shakes, he does cry. Tears fall from his eyes, and without thinking, I throw my arms around him and pull him close to my chest, trying my hardest not to cry too. It's almost uncomfortable, because he's so much bigger than me, but I don't fucking care. He needs this. _I_ need this. I can't stand seeing someone I love in so much pain.

I have to ask. It's driving me crazy. "Roy, please tell me you never… you know… did it ever get so bad that you… tried…"

"To kill myself." It's more of a statement than a question.

I swallow. "Yeah," I say weakly.

"I… yeah, I did." He sounds so hurt, like very word is a knife cutting him open, and guilt strikes me hard again. I shouldn't have asked. "I only tried twice. One was years ago— before we even met— and the other… a few months ago. I just didn't know what to do anymore. It got so bad that I just wanted out… but I couldn't. I was too scared."

I can't help it; a violent sob tears out of my throat. "Roy…"

"This is the only way I know how to make myself forget, even for a moment," he whispers. His voice sounds so pained that I can't help but tighten my arms around him, like I could hug him tight enough that I can absorb all of his pain and make everything okay.

"You can't do this anymore."

"I know," he says through grit teeth, supressing the sob I can feel shaking his shoulders. "But I don't know _how_."

What can I say? How can anything I say make it better? It can't, and I know it. What's done is done, and I can't exactly tell him that what he did in Ishbal was okay. Because it wasn't. I know how awful it was, and I know it kills him inside to know that he made the decision to do it. I try to swallow the painful lump in my throat.

"Listen," I say softly, lifting his face gently and wiping away the tears. I attempt to smile, but I'm sure it's more of a grimace. I'm crying too. "I know you can't take it back, but please, _please_, let me help you. You helped me. I don't know if I'd still be alive if you weren't there. I know how it feels to have a hole inside of you, eating you up from the inside, and I _know_ that you might feel like there's no way out, but you have to stop." I have to stop and shut my eyes and try not to break down again. I can feel the tears burning in the back of my throat. Without realizing, I hug him tighter, pressing as close as I can without suffocating him. I wish I could make him forget. Or make it easier to bear.

"I'll help you. I'll do anything. We can— I don't know, if you feel like you're going to… to do something, _tell me_. I'll bring you somewhere. We can go out for dinner. Or we can go for a walk. We can even just talk, if you want. _Please_," I beg him again. I'm barely whispering, but I'm sure he can hear me. "Just don't shut me out. I want to help you."

Roy doesn't answer again, but I can feel him trembling, and I know he's listening. My chest tightens when I notice that my shirt is wet where he has his face buried against my chest. "It's not only you that it hurts," I murmur. "If you screwed up— one cut the wrong way, and it could… you…" I can't make myself say it. The unsaid words hang in the air between us, heavy and weighing down hard. Shakily, I breathe out to calm down, and finish, "Too many people love you. Please, let me help you, okay?"

"Okay." He sounds so tired.

I squeeze him tighter. "You mean it?"

"Yeah," he whispers. With that, my heart feels just a little bit lighter. I shut my eyes and bury my face in his hair and just hold him, trying to let him feel how much I love him without saying anything.

"Thank you," I finally mumble into his hair. "For letting me help you."

"No," he murmurs in return, lifting his head to offer a small, sincere smile. His scarred arms tighten around my waist, and in that moment, a spark of hope relights itself inside of me. "Thank _you_, Ed."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Wow I haven't written hurt/comfort in so long I hope I'm not getting rusty.**


	48. Chapter 48 (?)

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: I was really in awe at how much love the last drabble got. ;A; **

**Thanks for all the support, too. I'm just going to have to work really hard this year I guess.**

**Also, in this drabble, I attempted to have Breda say the time in the military way? I literally had no idea what I was doing if I did it wrong and you notice please do not hesitate to point out my ignorance. I just guessed. :c**

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**Title: ((for the life of me I cannot think of a title for this drabble... which is why the chapter is just called Chapter 48.))**

**Rating: T **

**xxXXxxXXxx**

The only thing that Colonel Roy Mustang was sure of this morning was that today was going to suck. Miserably.

He didn't even have the energy to throw a friendly "good morning" to his staff as he trudged past and straight to his office doors. Maybe it was rude, but he couldn't bring himself to care, not when he was so tired his eyelids were determined to stay shut and his limbs felt like hunks of lead and his brain felt as though it'd been squashed thrice-over by a cement roller. He vaguely heard Havoc call something after him, and then Hawkeye's calm voice quieting him, but he didn't turn to look. He just wanted to sit down and drink his coffee and hope that it woke him up enough to at least _act_ like a human being.

The giant paper cup of coffee he'd picked up on the way steamed hotly in his hand. He set it down on his desk and released a heavy sigh as he sunk into the plush leather chair behind it, his tired muscles groaning in blissful relief at finally being allowed to relax. There was already a stack of paperwork on the corner of the desk, next to some pens and a picture frame, pristine and untouched, waiting to be signed. He eyed it with distaste for a moment, silently willing the papers to combust into flames and disappear, before letting his head fall forward and to connect with the hard surface of his desk. His fingers were still wrapped around his coffee cup. It was warm and just made him feel even more tired. He released the cup and instead brought that hand up to cover his mouth with a yawn.

The worst part was that he _knew_ this was coming. He'd known he was going to come into work dead tired, and that he _hated_ coming into work dead tired, but he'd allowed himself to be persuaded to stay up anyway. It wasn't like he could blame himself. Along with the exhaustion came beautiful, foggy memories of last night; firm body writhing beneath him, tanned skin glistening with sweat, messy, tangled, golden hair framing a face that twisted and relaxed and flushed in pleasure. He shifted in his chair, straightening and stretching his arms above his head until his back crackled unpleasantly with yet another yawn. He _should_ have the will-power to resist, by now, but he pathetically didn't. The memory of gold eyes, a few shades darker than normal, smouldering, needing, _burning_ him flashed through his mind, and he almost felt like smacking himself. It was almost sad how easily he was done in by those eyes.

He forced the thoughts out of his mind. Whether he was tired or not, he was at work and he actually had a lot of stuff to do, and to let his mind wander onto _those_ paths was unacceptable. He took a sip of his coffee. It was still scalding hot and burnt his throat as it went down, but he allowed it with a small grimace, hoping the pain might wake him up. It didn't. It just made his eyes water.

He set the cup aside and decided he'd let it cool down before attempting to drink it again. Systemically, he picked a black-ink pen from his desk and got started on his papers for the day. The stack seemed to stay the same size as he reviewed and signed them one by one, and he idly wondered if somehow, he was so exhausted that he was missing his Lieutenant coming in and adding more. By the time he was nearly a quarter done this stack, his coffee had cooled enough for it to be only comfortably hot. He sipped at it, slowly feeling more human and less zombie, robotically reading and then sluggishly signing his name, over and over again. His mind still felt like molasses and he often found himself reading the same line more than once. Frustrated, he pinched the bridge of his nose and shut his eyes in an attempt to concentrate. Unfortunately, his eyes didn't seem to want to open again after he'd shut them, and against his will he found himself drifting off, slumped over his desk. He was so tired…

The door edged open with a slight creak that went unnoticed by the sleeping Colonel. He did, in his half-asleep state, notice the disapproving sigh and the concerned, "Sir, please tell me you're not sleeping again."

Roy shot up. His eyes protested, but he managed to force them open and meet Hawkeye's worried claret ones. He tried to look like he didn't feel like death warmed up, but he knew she was able to see right through him. "I wasn't sleeping," he murmured, keeping his voice low so maybe she wouldn't notice how groggy and rough it sounded.

One of Hawkeye's fine eyebrows raised. "My mistake," she replied, with the slightest bite of sarcasm to her words. He didn't miss it, and he also knew that she didn't buy his little fib, not one bit. Well, she wasn't stupid, and he wasn't the best actor.

He sighed, once again willing his fatigue to leave. Once again, it didn't. "Do you need anything?" he asked shortly. Then he winced. He didn't mean to sound so snappy.

Hawkeye's other eyebrow joined the first. "No," she said evenly. "I noticed that you seemed to be in a bad mood this morning, and I thought I'd ask if _you_ needed anything." She eyed his large cup of coffee with contempt. "That much caffeine can't possibly be healthy."

"Probably not," Roy agreed. He covered his face with his hand, rubbing at his temples, trying to weaken the throbbing pain of weariness in his head. "The only thing you could do is let me sleep, but I know you won't." He offered a slight smirk at her unchanging expression. "Don't worry about me. I just had a late night and I'm tired. It won't happen again."

"Yes it will," Hawkeye replied with a smirk of her own. "Don't lie to yourself, Colonel."

His smirk faltered until all he could do was smile guiltily. "You're right," he sighed.

"Of course I am. Try not to fall asleep again, alright?" She somehow managed to give him a look that was stern and concerned at the same time before she left his office and shut the door behind her. He heaved another sigh and straightened out his back, gulping down a few mouthfuls of coffee in a futile attempt to give himself enough energy to get through this stack without losing his mind.

The rest of the morning up was rather dull; he got through the first stack just in time to be brought another, took a break to refill his coffee and use the washroom, organized his desk and desk drawers, wiped down the windows, alphabetized the books on the bookshelves, and finally sat back down to start working again. While his mind had been preoccupied doing things that _weren't _paperwork, he was almost able to forget his tiredness, but as soon as he picked up his pen, it hit him again. He let out a tired, annoyed breath, but forced himself to focus anyway.

The door opened again. This time, it wasn't gentle. It was flung open and hit the wall behind it with a resounding thud that made Roy's eyes water. He lifted his gaze from his paperwork and gave whoever it was the nastiest, most poisonous glare that he possibly could. It didn't soften any when he saw the huge, leering grin on Breda's face.

"Sorry, Chief."

Roy might have accepted the apology if not for the way Breda's grin widened at his obvious pain. "What do you want?" he asked tartly.

"Just wanted you to know that we just received notice that the power is going to be down in our wing from fourteen forty-five to eighteen forty-five." Breda gave a little salute. Roy raised an eyebrow at the sarcasm in it. Sometimes his team was full of valiant, noble soldiers— other times, they were a bunch of little shits.

"Great," Roy said, only half-kidding as he added, "maybe I won't have to finish my paperwork then."

"I don't think the Lieutenant will let you off that easy," Breda said wryly.

"Probably not."

"Are you sick or something? You're a real bitch this morning, sir."

Roy snorted. "Thank-you, Breda."

"No, seriously. You don't look too hot."

"I'm tired," Roy said, probably a bit more irritably than necessary. Breda raised an eyebrow and scratched at his stubbly chin.

"Yeah, bitchy as hell," he muttered under his breath. Roy heard. He glared.

"I'm _tired_," he repeated. "Two hours of sleep for a twelve-hour shift tends to make people feel that way. Now," he said, purposely putting the next paper in front of his face and blocking it from Breda, "can you leave? I'm busy."

"I actually have another question."

Roy wanted to punch something. He resisted only because he knew it wasn't Breda's fault that he was so annoyed. He should have gotten some sleep. "What?" he said shortly.

"Ed's in today, right? Fuery has this thing that he wants fixed, and we figured Ed could handle it easier than anyone… else…" He trailed off upon seeing the dark glower that donned his superior's face. "Colonel?"

"Yeah," Roy said brusquely. "He'll be in later, I imagine."

"Isn't he supposed to be here…" Breda checked the clock. "An hour ago?"

"He's probably not even awake yet."

Breda stared at him oddly. "How would you know?"

"Alphonse mentioned he's a late sleeper," Roy lied.

"Oh. Okay. Well, if you don't want to deal with him… I mean, you two don't get along on a good day, never mind when you're in a bitch mood like you are now… If you don't want to deal with him, I can do it."

"Don't worry about it. If he picks a fight, at least I'll have an excuse to yell at someone." Roy sighed and stretched again, letting his head fall onto the back of his chair. "It would be great if you could refill my coffee, though." He let one eye slide open to peer at Breda. "You don't have to, though."

Breda snorted and rolled his eyes, swiping the cup off of his desk. "Don't guilt-trip me, Chief. I'll fill your damn coffee, but only if you tell me something."

"Shoot."

Breda stared pointedly at his neck. "You said you were up late, right?"

"Mhm," Roy hummed distractedly. His eyelids felt heavy again. He probably shouldn't have shut them. Now they were too hard to open.

"Well," Breda cleared his throat. "Don't let the Lieutenant see that. She'll murder you for coming in late just 'cause you were shagging some girl last night."

Roy finally managed to open his eyes. He stared at Breda in confusion. "What?"

Breda nodded towards his collar. "Unless you managed to fall on your neck, I'm guessing _someone_ got laid."

Roy's eyebrows pushed together as he gingerly poked at the soft skin under his collar; when had that happened? As far as he remembered, _he_'d been the one doing the biting. And the sucking. And the teasing. And the everything. Hey, the brat had asked for it. He could still remember the husky voice demanding, "_Make me beg, damn it!_" but forced that out of his head for now because he did _not_ need to be thinking about doing Fullmetal while talking to Breda.

"Yeah," he finally mumbled, closing his collar so it hid the bruise. "It's none of her business what I do with my spare time, anyway."

"I'm inclined to believe she wouldn't see it that way," Breda said dryly. "Not when you came into work like this." When the Colonel just rolled his eyes and pulled another paper up to try and end the conversation, he grinned and raised an eyebrow. "Sooooo?"

"So what?" Roy griped from behind his paper.

"Was she hot?"

"Is it any of your business?"

"Probably not." But he didn't leave, and continued looking expectantly at him.

Roy slapped the paper down to his desk. "What am I supposed to say?" he asked, exasperated.

"Come _on_, Chief, you're an ass guy, right? Did she have a nice one?"

In all of his tiredness Roy could not muffle the snicker that bubbled up his throat when he thought about the tight leather that ass was usually clad in. "An excellent one."

Breda's grin broadened on his plump face. "You ever gonna get with her again?"

"Almost undoubtedly."

"This one got you hooked?"

Roy could only smirk. "Maybe."

"Damn," Breda said, whistling low. "If you're actually admitting that, you must have it _bad,_ Mustang."

Roy was trying to formulate a response when the door abruptly flew open again. They both jumped and looked over to see a panting, red-faced Fullmetal Alchemist standing there, bent over with his hands on his knees. After a moment, he finally caught his breath and straightened.

"You would not fuckin' believe the size of the wasp that was chasing me."

Roy raised an eyebrow. "You were able to run?"

The glare Ed shot him probably could have peeled the pain off of the walls. "For your information, yeah. I'm not a little bitch."

"I guess I was unaware of that fact. My mistake." He smirked. Ed growled.

"Don't think that just 'cause Breda's here I won't beat the hell out of you, Colonel."

"My my, Fullmetal," Roy said dryly. "I hardly think shrimps should use such profane words."

Edward's face flushed in anger. "You _suck_," he snarled.

"You would know."

Ed stared in disbelief for a moment, then threw his hands up and turned on his heel. "Why the hell do I even put up with your shit!" he screeched exasperatedly, slamming the door behind him as he stormed out. Breda stared after him with wide eyes. Roy could only keep smirking that smug smirk that always seemed to automatically come on whenever he teased Ed.

"You have _no _idea how bad I have it, Breda."

**xxXXxxXXxx**

**KissMeDeadlyT-T: Sleepy bitchy Roy is bitchy**

**Okay so I've decided I'm **_**actually**_** gonna start posting more drawings on my Deviantart account, and so if you guys have a dA, feel free to find me and screech at me on there too, I'd love that. :3**


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